John O’Neill

In 2000 Washington D.C. FBI counter-terrorism division chief John O’Neill begins tracking an imminent attack on American soil by al-Qaeda and one of its founding members Osama Bin Laden.

“Margie. Good. Gordo, good morning. Kathy, you’re a sight for sore eyes. Bobby. Suck me, asshole. Floyd, how are you? Good morning. So… I find out early this morning that the Agency raided Ahmad Salama Mabruk. Did they invite the Bureau to ride along? Do they call on me to pass on intel, or do I need to learn about this shit all by myself? I’m done. We’re gonna start acting on our own, here and overseas. Let me ask you something. How many Arabic speakers do we have in the Bureau? Anybody? Eight. Thank you. Eight Arabic speakers out of more than 10,000 agents. That’s how seriously our government takes this threat. Suck me, Bobby. What’s happening in the Manson family? Your newest colleague, Ali Soufan. He can answer every question you have. No, okay, shut– shut the fuck up. What happened on the Marbruk raid? You didn’t see what’s on it? God damn it. Fuck that motherfucker. Did you see anything? Albania? Okay, fuck this. I’m getting Justice to ram through an indictment on UBL so we can do this ourselves. We just– we gotta give them something. Bobby, what do you got? Anything– old leads, stale bullshit… get on the first plane to Kenya. I want whatever you can find. Something’s up, people. I can feel it. Bin Laden invited US journalists to Afghanistan two weeks ago so he can get himself on national TV– tonight.” — John O’Neill

“Soufan. Get your coat. We’re going to dinner. Hello, beautiful. 24 hours will do that. You applied tot he Bureau on a dare? You put money in the pot? Here’s to losing. You practice? Ah, church and me broke up a lifetime ago. Talk to me about the interview. Why three times? UBL’s warning the snake to get out of his house. That’s why he wanted to get on TV. Hey! Glad you could make it. John Miller, meet Agent Ali Soufan. Sit down, sit down, both of you. Come on, can’t we all just get along? Audrey, Glenlivet and rocks for Miller. So, world traveler, how was it? Well, you deserve the best. Hey, that was a good piece you put together. See, I don’t get that. I’ve cum on a lot of dresses and nobody ever wants to hear about those. Salut. Let me ask you something. The background footage for your interview had two guys scrubbed out. Why is that? Why those guys? Maybe you did get used.” — John O’Neill

“Mary Jo, you’re the only other person in the Justice Department who actually works for a living. It’s all work, whether you’re getting drunk doing it or not. You see the interview tonight? I called Louis Freeh afterwards. He’s tucked in bed with his cell phone off. What the fuck is that? We just got warned by al-Qaeda on national TV, and our director slept through it. We’re running out of time. We tried to get Alec Station to hand over intel. We ask, we ask, they don’t give a shit. I-49 needs an indictment so we can start acting on our own. You’re a good woman, Mary Jo. Go home and get some sleep. I’m working on it. You’re playing our song. You making love to Puccini with somebody else these days? Ah, at least they’re learning something useful. Well, don’t do that, ’cause then I’d have to arrest you. Mm-hm. ‘When that Aprill with his shoures soote, the droghte of March hath perced to the roote… and bathed every veyne in swich licour of which vertu engendred is the flour…’ It’s Chaucer, but it’s good. You know I keep my firearm on my ankle. Oh, just trying to catch some bad guys. If I could only figure out where they are.” — John O’Neill

“You have nothing new? Hm. You think I’m a complete moron? Can I remind you of NS Directive 30, signed by President Reagan, and PRD-44, signed by President Clinton? It’s not your choice whether you share intelligence. You’re required to share it with the FBI and everybody else in this room. What’s going on in Albania, Marty? You got a hard drive from Ahmad Salama Mabruk that mentions Albania. Where’s Mabruk? Why hasn’t the FBI had a chance to question him? What’s on his hard drive? You got a stash of intel that you refuse to share with my agents. So you do have the hard drive. How would you know if it was a law enforcement matter or a foreign intelligence matter if you haven’t looked at the hard drive? How about you take a deep fucking breath and get yourself prepared– I don’t want to calm down. Either of you watch TV the other night? If one American gets killed because of information you kept secret, when I get my hands on that hard drive– and I will get my hands on it– I will shove that thing so far up your ass you’ll be coming shit out of your pompous fucking beard. The point of these meetings is to share what we’ve got from our teams and work together. We might need to watch-list names. We might– you know what, gentlemen? Have a good meeting. I need to do some actual work.” — John O’Neill

“I’m sorry, Lizzie. Not the lasagna with the ground veal. Ah, I had a terrible day here. I gotta stick around, make things right. Ugh… I can’t. It’s my loss. Oh, you’re killing me. I gotta go, baby. You too.” — John O’Neill

“You’re playing our song.” — John O’Neill

“O’Neill. That’s perfect. That’ll get us our indictment. Mary Jo’ll make it work– whatever’s there. Oh, Bobby, I could fuck you right now. Out of Tirana. You’re a beautiful man. Pouch it to me here, share the intel with the sisters and come on home. You– you’ve done good, Bobby. Whatever you want. I’m here for you. Fuck you too.” — John O’Neill

“You gotta level with me. Is the agency making a move in Tirana? I got a computer that belongs to UBL’s Sudan secretary that’s got passport photos of Muhammed al-Zawahiri. If there’s something going down in Tirana, I got a right to have an agent there.” — John O’Neill

“You’re going to Albania. Now. The next flight to Frankfurt leaves in 90 minutes. You can transfer from there to Tirana. The Sisters are raiding Muhammed al-Zawahiri’s cell. They’ll give you a weapon when they pick you up. Now listen to me. This is the real deal. Make sure you lay eyes on any evidence they seize. If it’s in Arabic, I need you reading it. I want you talking to whoever they pick up, okay? But most important, be careful. When you land, do not go into the terminal building. Stay on the tarmac, as long as it takes. You’ll be picked up. You hear me? Stay on the tarmac. Wait will they come for you. Good luck.” — John O’Neill

“O’Neill. You didn’t let me down. This is one of Ayman al-Zawahiri’s biggest cells. They were clearly planning to hit something, probably the embassy. Maybe Albania was the most urgent warning the Agency found on Mabruk’s hard drive. Let’s hope so. Let’s hope they’re not planning to hit somewhere else. You did good. Thank you, son. Come on home.” — John O’Neill

“There you go. Come on. Him too. No. O’Neill. Ali, turn on your television. I’m gonna need you in the office. I’m on my way in. Now it begins.” — John O’Neill

“Where’s Louis Freeh? What a surprise. All due respect, this is a New York Office case, not Washington Field Office. That’s right. It’s the wrong decision. Our office has got a standing federal indictment against Bin Laden. We all know this is the work of al-Qaeda– oh, come on! I know MArty wants it to be WFO so he can keep better tabs on it. Agent Soufan is gonna tell you why it’s gotta be UBL. Go, Ali. Now. One last thing, Sanchez. You and Louie can go fuck yourselves. Or each other. Whichever makes you happy.” — John O’Neill

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Come on, Dick. We’re simply arguing for case control. We’re not trying to get you to pronounce a guilty verdict. Our office knows more about al-Qaeda than anybody. WFO will be playing catch-up, and they’re a pawn of Alec Station. Schmidt just wants the case over there so he can direct it remotely. I–I really wish people would stop telling me to calm down! There are bombs going off around the world! That doesn’t make me feel calm! I’m sorry? Oh. Dick, you’re the greatest. No, I owe you a big one. Okay. I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry about it.” — John O’Neill

“Well, here’s what you should’ve told the President: ‘Bin Laden’s laid a trap, and we’re walking right in it and nibbling the cheese.’ He wants to go to war. Well… I’ll tell you the first thing that’ll happen after the bombs falls and the dead get cleared away. They’ll get a ton of new recruits.” — John O’Neill

“We won? I’m telling you, it’s like whack-a-mole. They’re here. They’re here in America. They’re in London and Afghanistan. They’re in Kenya, Tanzania. And we… we have no idea what we’re up against.” — John O’Neill

Robert Chesney

“Godfather. Kiss the ring. I don’t know, John. It… remember Wadih el-Hage– used to be UBL’s secretary in the Sudan, now lives in Nairobi? We know he broke with him a while back. It may be a dead end, but…” — Robert Chesney

“Think he’s a maniac. He’s a maniac.” — Robert Chesney

“He’s got a charity called Help Africa People, whatever that means. We think he’s got this American wife, April Brightsky Ray. If she’s here, I can do the talking. Robert Chesney, United States FBI. I have a warrant to inspect the home of Wadih al-Hage and April Brightsky Ray. I’m afraid I’d have to go inside anyway. I’m more of a cat person myself, so I’m concerned. And if I get frightened, I might have to shoot him. And I wouldn’t want to do that in front of your kids. Thank you. That’s the charity you, uh, run with your husband, Help Africa People? I think it’s a perfectly good name. Of course, if you decide to change the grammar, I… I suggest you have a few decent choices. You could add a comma. That would make it an exhortation, an encouragement. ‘Help Africa, people.’ Or you could simply add an N. Help African People. That’s probably what you’re going for anyway, right? Robert Chesney, FBI. I have a warrant to inspect your home. We were just talking about that. You were the personal secretary to Usama Bin Laden. Is that correct? Do you ever speak with him now? Email? I see. But… you did work for him. Did you work for him on this computer?” — Robert Chesney

“Hi. Bob. You can call me Bob. Um. Yeah. Hi. Yeah, I know. It’s an ancient one. Big. Hope we can still turn it on. Oh, no, no. No, I can handle it. I, uh… I can do this. I didn’t notice you come over. I was watching… well, all of this. It’s lively. It’s nice. All the light. Super important to get involved with people. Thank you, I appreciate it. Thank you.” — Robert Chesney

“John. I’ve been up all night, going through el-Hage’s computer. You know, my Arabic is pretty much for shit, but there seems to be some training material that got sent to Somalia in ’92, ’93, before Black Hawk Down. Maybe some funding, too. You can get the new guy, Soufan, to go through it all. There’s something else. There’s a lot of photos on here. Probably for forging passports or whatnot, but one of them, I’ll bet my life, is Zawahiri’s brother, Muhammed al-Zawahiri. You know he runs the Albania cell. Oh, suck me. Fuck you. This is al-Qarda territory.” — Robert Chesney

“Okay, let’s settle down. Listen, most important. Remember, we are guests in another country. Let’s conduct ourselves accordingly. Let’s also remember why we are here. Less than 36 hours ago, some number of Americans and scores of Kenyans were murdered. This is al-Qaeda territory. When investigating, make sure you got a partner who’s aware of these sur– Floyd!” — Robert Chesney

“Hello, Officer Ndereba, hello. It’s good to see you again. Commander, I’m so sorry for the loss your country has experienced. I want you to know that we are here to help. We want to work in friendship with you. We– thank you, sir. Thank you. May I introduce Agent Bennet and ask if he can help your officers secure a perimeter? Good, and sir, do you have an account of the dead and wounded, one that I could take a look at? Thank you. Has there been any word on an American woman, Deborah Fletcher. She’s with the State Department at the Embassy. I haven’t heard anything from or about her. Oh, well… thank you. All right, let’s get Bomb Squad, ERT, Forensics, working alongside the Kenyans. Collect soil samples, explosive residue, find parts of the truck and start reassembly. Thank you. And let’s get a group together to help dig out from the rubble, try to save some people, if at all possible. I had a drink with her when I was here last week.” — Robert Chesney

Ali Soufan

“Special Agent Ali Soufan, Federal Bureau of Investigation. July 8th, 1971. Sidon, Lebanon. Yes, sir, I did. All right. If members of the CIA testified that the Agency properly shared information with the Bureau in the manner in which they are by the law directed to, then you’ve been lied to. In the summer of 1998. Martin Schmidt was the chief of Alec Station, the Bin Laden unit of the CIA. Alec Station was Schmidt’s creation, his domain. He and his team devoted their lives to the hunt for al-Qaeda. That hunt was meant to be done hand-in-hand with the FBI. It wasn’t. The Bureau had two agents assigned to Alec Station. They were supposed to be informed of intelligence, so they could report it back to my boss at the FBI, John O’Neill. That summer, Alec Station came into possession of a hard drive from an al-Qaeda cell in Eastern Europe. Martin Schmidt refused to share that intelligence. On that hard drive were lists of al-Qaeda operatives and more than 50 potential targets.” — Ali Soufan

“Eight. Ali. It’s all right. I was in grad school. My friends thought it would be funny if a Muslim who drank heavily sent in a resume. We weren’t sure which one would disqualify me more: the alcohol or the Islam. We even had a pool whether I’d get in or not. I lost. Islam? Not in a long time. You? I think it’s the third warning. First was the ’96 declaration of jihad. Then the February fatwa. And now, Bin Laden is going straight to the American people. There’s this unauthenticated hadith– the sayings of the Prophet Muhammed– some think he said it; some don’t. ‘When you see a snake in your house, you should warn it three times. If it returns, you must kill it. It is a devil.’ Telling America to get out of the Middle East, out of Saudi Arabia in particular. He used Miller’s interview to– to appear strong by threatening the United States as he looked an American directly in the– uh… Mr. Miller, I assure you, I…” — Ali Soufan

“Thanks for meeting me out so late. So how are the kids? It’s special ed students you teach, yeah? FBI. I do a background check on anyone I go on a date with. Hey. Sorry. I’eve been so busy at work. Thanks Omar. He’s been like a second father to me since I moved to New York. Uh, look, I didn’t mean to freak you out. I was trying to make a joke. Bad joke. Sorry. Hi, boss. When? Uh, yes, sir. Okay. I’m sorry, I– I really have to. I apologize. I have to leave, Omar. Inshallah. Ah… I’m sorry.” — Ali Soufan

“Where are you taking them? Hey. Where are you taking them? Boss. We raided the house, arrested four individuals– none of them Zawahiri, confiscated explosives and batteries and wiring. The Sisters took the suspects to Egypt. I looked through the house and there was no written material, no computers, so I got no information to pass to you. I’m sorry, boss. I let you down. Okay, thank you sir.” — Ali Soufan

“Hello. I’ll meet you there. Sir, there has been a preliminary claim of responsibility from Al-Jaish el-Islami li-Tahrir al -Muqadasat. ‘The Islamic Army for the Liberation of the Holy Places.’ If I can quote to you– it is, sir.” — Ali Soufan

“The claim also contains the demand for the withdrawal of U.S. forces from the Arabian Peninsula. If you recall the February fatwa, the retreat from the Arabian Peninsula is a particular obsession for Bin Laden and al-Qaeda. It has never been remotely as important to Hezbollah, which is Shia, not Sunni, and which is far more focused on the ultimate elimination of the State of Israel. Those agendas seem to me disconnected from the bombings in East Africa. Lebanon, sir.” — Ali Soufan

“Excuse me? I’m not a trained Muslim monkey putting on a show for you. When people use my religion to justify this shit, it affects me. I assure you that nothing I do is for your benefit. I work for the U.S. government, and I live by my own conscience.” — Ali Soufan

“Al-Qaeda isn’t a normal enemy force. You can’t just cut the head off the snake. It’s more pervasive. It’s like the ‘mercurcy’ theme in ‘Terminator II.’ In the movie, the enemy, the T-1000, which is an android assassin played by Robert Patrick, has harnessed the properties of liquid metal, which quickly disperses and reconstitutes. Therefore, he is virtually impossible to defeat. Bin Laden is espousing an ideology that exists at the cellular level. Cancer by its most basic definition is the multiplicity of cells, and al-Qaeda is a cancer. My point is that al-Qaeda is not gonna be defeated by simply gunning down the boss. To them, martyrdom is the purest kind of poetry. It’s beyond poetry. It’s eternity. Each time we snuff a part of it out, it will keep resurfacing. It goes that deep. Killing Bin Laden is only going to secure his legend and inspire more and more martyrs.” — Ali Soufan

Martin Schmidt

“Yeah? Good girl. Indeed I do. Shut it down. Close up shop. Whatever we may or may not be examining is entirely none of your business. The ladies and I analyze what we learn in the manner for which we’ve been… shall we say, educated. I see. Fuck John O’Neill.” — Martin Schmidt

“I come from all the way across the river. Nothing new this week. That’s what I said, John. You interested in an answer to that question? Thank you for the memories. I have nothing new, Richard. If we were in possession of such a computer, and I’m not confirming that we are, it would be a foreign intelligence matter, not a law enforcement matter. I don’t know how you reached that– if we did have any intelligence whatsoever, it would be for us to decide how best to use it before you do what you always do: go around the globe arresting people and putting them on trial, before you blow a possible gold mine of information and render it utterly useless. So no, I’m not prepared to say one way or the other–” — Martin Schmidt

“They’re EIJ. Egypt wants them, Egypt gets them. Send them to Cairo in the morning. I like the way you think, Diane.” — Martin Schmidt

“Well, if we can get eight to ten agents back on the ground in Kenya and Tanzania, how would you feel about embedding CIA agents with the FBI from the WFO? To be continued.” — Martin Schmidt

“Dick, advise the president that some of us aren’t into it for the politics. We’re in it for America.” — Martin Schmidt

Vince Stuart

“What are you going over in there, Martin?” — Vince Stuart

“It is weird it’s all women and one bearded guy, right? Thought it was just me. Who is this? All right. Welcome. Interesting. He said the same thing about you. He and the redhead were putting some pins in a map. I think a few were in Africa. One went in Albania. Tirana, I think.” — Vince Stuart

Toni-Ann Marino

“Sir, the way this works is you show us what you’ve got and then we discuss if it’s our business. Okay. We’re flying back to New York this morning. John O’Neill’s gonna want to know what you’re looking at.” — Toni-Ann Marino

“Sorry, boss. Shuttle was late. How you doing, Ollie? That’s what I said. All we could learn was that they renditioned him to Cairo and they got their hands on a computer hard drive. Schmidt closed us out.” — Toni-Ann Marino

Mary Jo White

“White here. Do you call what you do working? I’m sitting at my desk, how about you? Well, I went into the wrong end of the business. What’s up, John? I suppose he’s trying to sleep. Tell me what I can do for you. Tie UBL to something concrete. Karachi consulate van attack, Khobar Towers. You get me anything decent, even if it’s old, I’ll get you an indictment. You too.” — Mary Jo White

Richard Clarke

“Thank you for making yourselves available once again. Thanks especially to those who travel in. John. You do, and the American people owe you a debt of gratitude. Let’s get status updates before moving ahead. General? Good. Thank you, General. Martin? Okay, calm down for a minute. All right, all right. Enough, John. Martin, after the meeting, you will return to Alec and go through what you’ve got with your team.” — Richard Clarke

“John. John, Dick Clarke. I have bad news.” — Richard Clarke

“John, calm down. I want you to calm down because you’re right. You’re right. You should have this case. You’re welcome. Where were you born? Beverly, would you get me Louie Freeh on his cell phone? He’s good. Don’t lose him. Director Freeh, Richard Clarke. I’m fine. I’m here with John O’Neill. It is unusual that he came to me, but I also think he’s right. The New York office has been tracking UBL since… well, this young Agent Soufan makes a very convincing case that it is al-Qaeda. I understand. Okay. I appreciate that. Thank you, Director. You got your case. Hang on. John, hang on. Hang on! First of all, you damn well better prove it’s al-Qaeda. Second, the Director told me to say that you, personally, are not permitted to go to Africa. I’m sorry. That’s a relationship you’re gonna have to work to repair. John, whoever you do send to East Africa, please tell them to be careful.” — Richard Clarke

Lizz

“Is this our song? A few guys, mostly freshmen. They’re certainly not learning anything else. If I have to read another ‘Beowulf’ essay cribbed from freaking Cliffs Notes, I’m gonna kill someone. Oh. Is that a promise? Well, aren’t you sweet? That’s good. The Jesuits taught you well. That is so good. Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me? How was your day, baby?” — Lizz

“Well, that is a shame, ’cause I’m making your favorite. You’re missing out. Any chance you catch the last shuttle? You can wake me up. You bet it is, and I’m not just talking food. All right. Well, go catch some bad guys. Love you.” — Lizz

Kathy Shaughnessy

“Glad to be of service. I, uh, yeah.” — Kathy Shaughnessy

“Yep. Will do. Sir, did you know Deb– yes, sir.” — Kathy Shaughnessy

Floyd Bennet

“I’m good, sir.” — Floyd Bennet

“Copy that, boss.” — Floyd Bennet

Commander Onyango

“We are now all Kenyan policemen. Please. Charles. Please. You refer to the CIA Chief of Station. It’s okay. I know you cannot say. Look, I’m sorry, but if we knew anything, Ms. Fletcher would be on the list. Thank you.” — Commander Onyango

Amazon original crime drama Sneaky Pete premiered its second season Friday March 9, 2018.

Marius Josipović

Ex-con Marius Josipović steals his cell-mate’s identity Pete Murphy and shacks up with his estranged family upon his release from an upstate New York correctional facility to dodge an outstanding debt.

“Pete, would you shut the hell up? Three years in here. I feel like I’ve spent every moment of that listening to this crap. Pete had the perfect summers. Pete had the perfect grandparents. All that money from the bond business, but they loved you anyways. They had the time for you, until mommy pissed them off 20 years ago. At least I have people skills. Yes, I’m a confidence man. I give people confidence, they give me their money. You, what, you tried to rob a gun range at gunpoint? I get out of here in two days. You’re not even up for parole for another two years, which means my life is currently better than yours. So I either had a better life than you, or none of that crap means nothing. Either way, just stop talking about it. Okay?” — Marius Josipović

“24 more hours, Eddie. Oh, my God. You know the first thing I’m gonna do? I’m gonna murder a cheeseburger at Donovan’s. All right, little brother, I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Everything all right? What do you mean? How much? What? Wait a minute. That’s what it was to start with. I’ve been paying him. You’ve been paying him. What the fuck happened. So now you tell me? I mean– he wants me dead, doesn’t he? Well, I got to talk to him. Ah, Eddie. Yeah. All right. All right.” — Marius Josipović

“So what, you’re not talking anymore? No, you were right. My– my life sucked. I had a dad I never met and a mother who was only around when she didn’t have a needle in her arm and about a dozen foster parents, only three of whom weren’t there for the crappy check. And you had… loving grandparents. It makes me feel like something’s possible. If you wanna– if you wanna talk about it. No? Where’s the farm?” — Marius Josipović

“But my brothers are coming to meet me. And my dad is with them. He wasn’t supposed to be, but he wouldn’t stay home. My dad doesn’t know that I wasn’t in prison. He had a heart attack just before I went away, and then another one last month, and my mother thinks the truth is gonna kill him. We managed to keep the secret for three years. Come on, just stop the bus at the next light, open the lever, I’ll get out, I’ll walk the rest of the way and give my dad a hug… like a normal son. Thank you. Thank you. Whew! Whoo!” — Marius Josipović

“Hello. I– I am a bit lost here. Me? I am from Montreal, Canada. I’m sorry. Uh, I– I am, uh, I am going here. But, uh, we are– we are here, yeah? Yeah. Great. Thank you. I must be going because, uh… I heard there was going to be more snow. Uh, barkeep, uh, another drink for my friend, huh? And the quote was Gretsky.” — Marius Josipović

“Hi grandma, grandpa. It’s me– Pete. Oh, I would– I was gonna say I’d love a glass of water, if that’s all right. Thank you for bringing that out, though. Thank you, grandpa. Wasn’t there an apple tree out there? Well, where do you build your treehouses now, grandpa? You know how she is. She’s just not quick to forgive a mistake. Great.” — Marius Josipović

“It’s pretty. Julia, you’re just as I remember you. Well, you were beautiful. Where are your parents? Where did you study finance? Oh, I’m sorry. You work for the family business, right? Bonds and mutual funds? I figured you’d have a business degree. No? What’s that? Oh, yeah. Well, a little bit of this, a little bit of that. I’ve been doing some investigative work for an insurance company. Uh, you know, tracking down valuables, finding missing persons, uh, following people who are faking injuries. Couple days. I know, but my current employer is expecting me back. Okay. Tell me about it. Wow. Yeah. Sure. Oh, my gosh. No. He cried. He cried, and then we made fun of him. You’re a– you’re a– wow, that’s great. He’s a cop.” — Marius Josipović

“Yeah, I’m okay. I, uh– I don’t think I can stay here, though. The resource potential is slimmer than I thought, and the risks are higher. Maybe I should just talk to Vince. Wait a minute. Yesterday, you said I wasn’t gonna get out of this by talking. That’s true. I’m in the city. Hey, I’ll text you the address. See you tomorrow morning.” — Marius Josipović

“Oh, my God. Shit. You scared the shit out of me. Sorry. I didn’t see you sitting there. What are you listening to? What are you– what are you listening to? Yeah. Yeah, that’s rough. I know what it’s like to be around people fighting. Sometimes you just have to get some space, you know? What’s that? Wow. Yeah, I don’t– I don’t know where this is coming from. And frankly I’m– I’m a little surprised because I– because I covered for you back there. Oh, really? We’re going to play that game? Come on. You stole that blouse. Who’s the thief? Oh, that’s right. That’s why you ripped it off before anybody else could see. My mistake. Sorry. Right. You didn’t steal the blouse. By the way, you’re welcome.” — Marius Josipović

“Oh, Eddie, you son of a bitch. Go. Just drive. Hi, Joseph. Just. You look good. No. I need a setup. Joseph– I just need a driver’s license with a hologram, the whole 9 yards. Needs to be foolproof. Now. Uh… Washington. Here. I have the, uh, details. You– you don’t have a burner, do you? I don’t have any money. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Yeah.” — Marius Josipović

“I never liked you anyway. Not in the city. Vince’s goons are looking for me. You know, Eddie just tried to deliver me up. I don’t blame him. Vince thinks I still owe him a hundred grand. No, no, it doesn’t, no. Do you? He’d have drunk Pappy from the sponge if he could have. Ohh.” — Marius Josipović

“You were right. When family asks for help, you don’t say no. I’ll take the job. Amen. This file says Abraham Persikoff, not Brad Lewis. What? So where are we going? ‘Check databases, voter registration, and last known addresses. skips always run to where they feel safe.’ You just said that. Wait a minute. So we’re literally doing this by the book? Yeah. I’m gonna go to the address of somebody who wouldn’t lie, cheat, or steal to protect the person that we’re trying to put in jail, all right? No, this is a good plan. You go there, I’ll go here. We’ll work together separately. She’s lying. Because the neighbor saw Abraham here four times in the last three days, twice overnight. Yeah. Yeah, she’s a bitch. What are you doing? No. When a liar gets caught in a lie, they don’t come clean. They build a bigger lie. No. I guarantee the first thing she did after you walked out was call him and warn him. Besides, I know where he’s going. Okay. You know what? If we catch him, you can give it back. And if not, he owes you at least that much, right? Anyways, I know where he’s going. He’s going to get his fix.” — Marius Josipović

“A gambler on the run is still a gambler. We are who we are. Well, I was a different person back then. I mean, I was 10 years old, right? So I guess that means I kind of won that argument. That’s Abraham Persikoff? Where’s the file? Uh, no. He’s a felon. What if he’s not? I know that before we do anything, we should probably know who we’re dealing with.” — Marius Josipović

“Oh, my God! I’m so sorry! Oh, my God. I’m– I’m so sorry. I– I heard footsteps, and– I don’t know how you were the first footsteps. I– no, he must have– he must have turned down the hallway or something, I don’t know, and he ducked into a room. Because I– I know him. That guy would have killed us. Abraham Persikoff is not a tax cheat. Well, he might be, but who cares? He’s also Max Peron, and under that name he runs a construction and protection racket in Long Island, and he’s probably killed half a dozen people. I– I just know people he knows. You haven’t seen me in 20 years. I’ve had a life. Julia– Julia, whatever you posted for him, you should just write it off. I don’t care if it’s a million dollars. It’s not worth dying over. You need me. I know this guy. I know this world. You need somebody to tell you that that was a lousy plan. Plans that involve running after people and tackling people are never good plans. Yeah, I am. I like my face. Have you ever been punched? It hurts. Look, there’s always a better way. There’s always a smarter way, and if there isn’t, running away is a perfectly sensible idea.” — Marius Josipović

“Can we get out of here? Taylor can call us with the info. Taylor, if it makes you feel uncomfortable, you can just issue an APB on the guy. We can get out of your hair. What about Max Peron? You can check his cards. Huh. What? Uh– you’re mistaken. No. No. I get mistaken for people a lot. I think I just have a common face. Yeah. This is perfect– I mean, not your driving but the airport. It’s a controlled environment. It means he’s already been checked for a weapon. Okay. Uh… two tickets for the 5:20 to Fort Lauderdale. Ma’am, ma’am, so sorry. We need to get on that flight. We don’t have the right ones, but our great-uncle is on the flight. He’s diabetic. He forgot his insulin today, and if we don’t get on that flight, he may die. Okay, so you have the insulin, right? You can go on the flight alone? What? No. Uh, no. No, it’s okay. It’s okay. Maybe he saw me. He must have seen one of us. Let’s just hope it was you. No, I’m sorry. He just knows people that I know that– people who don’t like me very much. I just can’t have him see me. Wait a minute. He’s not here. This was just a distraction. What’s the advantage that we have over him? What’s the one thing we know about him that he doesn’t know we know about him? Exactly. Max Peron, and Max Peron has credit cards, right? So why would he book a plane flight with Persikoff’s credit cards unless he wanted us to know about it, right? Doing what, though? What do we know? And what are we not supposed to know? What? The Hartford County Nursing Association. $500. What? I don’t– yeah. There’s no way he’s going to that. It would be stupid. It’s too public.” — Marius Josipović

“So we need to be in control of the situation, which means we need to control him. We need to know what he’s going to do before he knows he’s going to do it. Why do you have so many suits? What are you, a cross-dresser? We need to separate him from everyone, which means we need to give him a reason to get away from everyone.” — Marius Josipović

“Evening. Welcome to Haven Lake. Are you guys here for the event? Great. Can I get your names, please? Stephen Davidson. And your guest’s name? Well, you both look great this evening. For your safety, we’re having everybody stay in their cars until the valets clear the vehicles in front of them. Okay? Nice SL, by the way. Dorothy, you have the tickets. Can you just check your purse? Okay, can you check the invitation list? The name’s Davidson, Stephen Davidson. Okay, that wasn’t my fault. The tickets were electronic. Because you let Rory play Mine Grabber on it. You mean how much I spent on your hair. Oh, thank you. Such a beautiful night. Well, he’d be an idiot not to be, and he’s definitely not an idiot. Phase 2. Mrs. Persikoff. So happy to finally meet you. I believe you’ve spoken to some of my co-workers, and they all sing your praises. I’m sorry. I’m Martin Unger. I’m sure somebody mentioned my name. I’m in charge of PR for this event. It’s a lovely event, lovely people. Listen, the doctors get all the credit, but we know who the real heroes are, don’t we? We have a lovely green room for you upstairs so you can relax and get some quiet before your big moment. Okay, yeah. I’ll tell Marlene. You know, she recently photographed Madonna, and the pictures were, dare I say, sumptuous, and you do look sumptuous, but do what you want to do. No, don’t worry about that. Andy, can you tell Mr. Persikoff that his mother is in the green room? Not now, Andy. Your son must be so proud. This is like winning an Oscar for nursing. Well, let me say it for you, then.” — Marius Josipović

“Eddie. Yeah, I saw you there. Uh, nothing? Come on, Eddie. Give me a story, something to make me trust you again. Oh, shut up. You’re not good at this. You’ve never been good at this. That’s why this is so stupid, Eddie. What did they promise you? And that sounded like a good deal to you? Huh? Oh, that’s the perfect deal? They throw a little money on top of that? Vance, you’re going to be wasting your time because I really don’t care about my brother anymore. Hey, grandma. Oh, yeah, I was just on the phone with a friend. No, ma’am.” — Marius Josipović

“Three years upstate. Nothing to do but plan how to take him down. You don’t think I came up with anything?” — Marius Josipović

Audrey Bernhardt

“Pete? Would you like some lemonade? Okay. Where have you been for the last 20 years? I mean, where have you lived? Have you been married? Do you have any kids? So much to catch up on. What she did to us was unforgivable.” — Audrey Bernhardt

“I’m his grandma too, and I never said that. I never said that. Everyone forgets stuff. He can’t work, so I have to work. I was supposed to be retired 10 years ago. And what, you’re gonna take over? Julia’s been working at the business for a couple of years. She’s been a big help. And you did a great job, actually, running the place while I was sick a few weeks ago. But we make money by knowing who we can trust and who can’t trust, and I’m sorry, but if that were a strong suit of yours, your kids would have the same color eyes. We’re in the bail bonds business. Especially when we need you? Our skip tracer quit. Nonsense. When family asks for help, you don’t say no. We insist on you staying.” — Audrey Bernhardt

“Hey. Anything happening this morning? Damn. Who? The B&E? No kidding? Figured for sure that kid didn’t have the balls to try running. Take Pete. Perfect. It’ll give Pete a chance to learn on an easy case. Take him.” — Audrey Bernhardt

“Julia, you’ll never guess who grandpa just ran into. Brad Lewis. Well, found, really, but it wasn’t that tough, since Brad had no idea we were even looking for him. Are you okay? You sound out of breath.” — Audrey Bernhardt

“Hey, Pete. Didn’t want to disturb you. Got to get those eggs for tomorrow’s breakfast. Everything all right? If I don’t get these out of here tonight, there’s a fox who will. Little bastard coming into our house, staking a claim to what isn’t his. We can’t have that, can we? Okay. Oh, that’s enough. Thanks.” — Audrey Bernhardt

“I tried cleaning this up, but he about bit my head off. That’s what marriage is, mostly– putting up with each other’s shit.” — Audrey Bernhardt

Otto Bernhardt

“Oh! Pete, it’s– he hates lemonade. Audrey. Uh, died a couple years ago. How’s your mom? I haven’t talk to her in three years. What happened? That might be hereditary. I called the whole family over for lunch. All your cousins.” — Otto Berhnardt

“Adorable. Is that a new blouse? Carly. I’m fine. I can work. I can work. The bond business. In your 10-year-old mind, we’re this rich family in the bond business, aren’t we? Oh, for God’s sakes, enough about us. Pete, you never did tell us what you’ve been doing. How you make your money. No kidding. What– uh, we haven’t seen you in 20 years, and you think you’re gonna disappear again in two days? Taylor. See you. Yeah.” — Otto Berhnardt

“Cheaters always think they’re being cheated.” — Otto Berhnardt

Carly Bowman

“My grandma thinks your mom’s a screw-up. Don’t worry, she says I’m a screw-up too. No. It’s Laney’s. I just borrowed it last time that I slept over at her place. They’re dead. Is it easier for everyone if I say they passed? They passed. Then grandpa had a stroke. You forget stuff, grandpa. Okay, well, he can’t walk that well, so he can’t work. And we’re so not rich. I can’t go on my class trip this year.” — Carly Bowman

“Hey. Uh, Norwegian death metal. Blocks out the sound of Grandma and Julia arguing. Okay. So, just so I’m clear, this is the part where we bond, right? You know, where you give me some bullshit about understanding what I’m going through and then suddenly we’re besties? Covered for me how? right. So you think that I stole a blouse, and now we’re thick as thieves because you didn’t rat me out. Okay, the fact is, I just forgot to take the sticker off.” — Carly Bowman

Julia Bowman

“I had crooked teeth and braids. Our parents died in a car accident 12 years ago. You don’t have to work. You could retire tomorrow. Am I blushing? Really? How long you planning on staying for, Pete?” — Julia Bowman

“We got a skip. Brad Lewis. Brad’s an idiot and a coward. I don’t think I need backup. I must have misspoken. We put up a $20,000 bond for Abraham Persikoff. This morning he had a pre-trial hearing. He didn’t show. If he doesn’t show up for pre-trial, he is not gonna show up for trial. And if he doesn’t show up for trial, we don’t get paid. We’re starting at his mom’s house. Skips always run to where they feel safe. Everybody loves their mom. Wrong address. If you’re covering for him, you’re not helping him. If he’s called you– okay. Here. Does Abraham have a girlfriend that he might turn to? I want to know hwere he would go when he needs– reason I ask is because– when he needed a place to crash, where did he stay? Oh, his friend Stewart. Do you have a last name? Address? Phone number? Oh, no, I already checked the hospitals and the morgue. You can’t break into houses, okay? You get caught, we lose our license. How do you know that? That bitch. No. So we wait for him to come back. You stole his computer. Oh, my God.” — Julia Bowman

“I’m still not sure I’m buying this. If he’s on the run, he should be staying low. So you’re still the same jerk you were when you were 10? I worshipped you, and you weren’t very nice to me. He’s here. Leather jacket. The file you didn’t bother to look at? You know him? You’re acting like you know him. You’re acting scared. He’s not violent. He’s facing tax evasion charges. If you actually know something, say it. Okay, here’s the plan.” — Julia Bowman

“Abraham, you need to come with me. Please don’t make this difficult. No, he came– he came through here. No. You let him get away. Y-you must have let him get away. Why would you let him get away? What? How do you know him? You’re fired. He walks, I miss the next payment on our line of credit. The bank starts seizing assets. Our grandparents lose the business, maybe the farm. Our grandparents started this business. My parents met in this business. And that car accident– they were working a case. This business is this family, and it will not end because I trusted the wrong guy yet again. So yeah, I am finding him, and I am taking him in. It was a good plan right up to the point where you screwed it up. Are you afraid of getting into a fight?” — Julia Bowman

“You tell me that every time, and every time, you get me the info. Flights, trains, buses? He’s got to be trying to get as far away from here as fast as possible. Scroll. Border town. When does it leave? All right. Thanks, Taylor. Yeah. Perfect. That plane leaves, our business goes with it. do we only get to go if we have good reasons for wanting to go? Hey, grandma. Oh, yeah. It was a miscommunication from the court house. I should have let you know. Oh, I’m just playing tag with Allen. Oops. He almost got me. Got to go. You’ve got apple juice. He’ll be fine. People from your insurance business? Sounds a lot more dramatic than I thought it was. What’s up, Taylor? Thanks, Taylor. Come on. We might make it. No, no, no, no. Are you just chickening out again? That he has a second identity. So maybe Persikoff isn’t trying to distract us while he heads to Providence or anywhere else. Maybe he’s trying to distract us while he stays right here in town? The charitable donation? From– from Peron’s credit card receipts. It’s odd. The guy’s giving money away two weeks before he plans on skipping bail? County– that association is having an event tonight. No. He’ll be there. His escape from justice must wait till tomorrow. Tonight the Hartford County Nursing Association is honoring his mommy.” — Julia Bowman

“Jacob’s dad was in such a hurry to get out of here, he didn’t bother to pack. Can you help me with this? How do we do that when he knows me, his mother knows me, and he’s not allowed to see you?” — Julia Bowman

“I don’t have them, honey. Remember when you put on your jacket? Honey, you put them in there. I don’t much like your tone, and I’m sure you had them. It’s the CF function all over again. We’re going to waste another night– and your phone was dead. Great. It’s the 8-year-old’s fault. I knew it couldn’t possibly be yours. You know how much I spent on my hair. Oh, now we get to the real issue! Thank you. You think he’s armed? I will be right back. Mr. Persikoff? I think she’s having a heart attack. I don’t know. She’s kind of blue. There’s a doctor with her. She wasn’t talking. She was clutching her chest. They called an ambulance. The Hogan Room, second floor.” — Julia Bowman

Taylor Bowman

“Grandma. Gramps. Pete! It’s been way too long. Man, inseperable every summer until we were 12– …like we were one person, and then just nothing. That’s just wrong. You know what I’m saying? You remember the crayfish? I still laugh about that. You remember Shawn’s reaction– …when I almost shot one? He would imitate him every time we saw this kid for years. Do it. Come on, just give me a little taste. Come on. Please? Just give me a little of it. Come on, do it. You must remember it. Come on, man. And– and– because it was, uh, hysterical. Look, we were kids. And I’m sure that poor old Shawn has gotten over it by now. Oh! Yeah. Unit 19. What’s up? Yeah, uh– yeah, I can be there in 10. I’m sorry, guys. I gotta fly. A cop, yeah. Things have changed, huh? I had to figure at least one of us would be on the other side of the law by now, right? Ahh! That was easy. I let you off easy. See you guys.” — Taylor Bowman

“I shouldn’t even be looking at people’s credit card records without a warrant. And every time, it’s worth reminding you that I don’t like doing this. Federal charges, we don’t have jurisdiction. Okay. Abraham Persikoff has three cards. No. A couple of cabs, a couple of lunches. Ah. Okay, he’s got a hotel in New York a couple of weeks ago, a charity donation, and a couple of cabs again. No flights, no trains. Oh, God. New charge just came through on one of Persikoff’s cards. Two hours ago, he bought a flight out of Hartford to Buffalo. Less than an hour. Yeah.” — Taylor Bowman

“Just heard from my guy at the credit bureau. Persikoff used the same card to buy another plane ticket, this one to Detroit, leaving in two hours out of Providence.” — Taylor Bowman

Marjorie

“You’re not very good at that. You want a place to stay? Look, Eddie’s just trying to stay alive. He’s not the only one. Well, it’s unfortunate, but it doesn’t really change things, does it? You still want to do this? If you can’t get justice, you get revenge. Besides, how many times in this life does one get the opportunity to pull off the Turk? It’s his last bottle. I’ve been saving it. I don’t know how he’d feel about paper cups, but… we’ll save the rest for the end.” — Marjorie

Pete Murphy

“That’s what I remember the most, that shade of green. It might have been the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Just the color. The only time we were inside was when we slept, and even then not half the time. There was a tire swing. Every summer, that thing would break, and every summer, Grandpa would fix it. And the apples– oh, man, I’m telling you, apples ain’t the same anymore. I mean, I don’t know what they– nothing’s the same anymore. They did. It’s all true. And it just pisses you off because it was better than your screwed-up life, whatever that was. I know your life sucked worse than mine.” — Pete Murphy

Eddie Josipović

“Yeah, that’s a good burger. Uh… no, Marius, it’s not. Uh… you can’t come back here. It’s Vince. We owe him more money than I thought– a lot more. A hundred grand. He says it’s interest that the– the vig’s been running for three years. I just found out. I don’t know. I don’t know. But he’s gonna have people waiting for you when you get out, so– no. I think this is beyond talk, Marius, at least for you. Look, he likes me, all right? So just– let me try to work him. But right now you got to hide. You got to hide.” — Eddie Josipović

“Marius, you okay? All right, but you’re safe. Where are you? Yeah. You know, that– you’re good at that. Calming people down, right? Making them want to give you stuff. Just tell me where you are. I’ll come get you. It was your idea. Yesterday, I thought you had options. Today, you tell me you don’t. So where are you? All right.” — Eddie Josipović

Vince Lonigan

Vince Lonigan owns and operates an underground card room The World Class in Manhattan, New York.

“He’s trying to help you, jackass. Jesus. You are so stubborn. God damn. Look, Marius, I’m going to make this short, okay? I’m a very reasonable man, but even reasonable men have limitations, okay? You stole from me. I can’t have that. But now you’re back, right? So here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to give you a week to give me my money. If you don’t… I’m going to take your brother’s hand and a bolt cutter, and I’m going to snip off a finger. Next week, snip off another one. All right? Pretty soon I’m going to run out of fingers. Then what? Heh heh. Y-you know, you had me for about two seconds. You got seven days, Marius.” — Vince Lonigan

“Wow. Cute place. I guess. You know, your brother’s my guy for spotting cheats. And there’s nobody better but I don’t think even he could spot that. Could you spot that? I’m here, Marius, because I heard that you were taking down a cheater. And I don’t like cheaters. I like to think I am. No. Row. What are you looking for? What’s the buy-in? Fucking program? You know, as much as I would love to have one of your imaginary T-shirts and programs, I don’t invest in cons. I’ve been playing this game since I was a boy. My Aunt Georgia taught me. She used to say poker was for boys. Bridge– that’s for grownups. 3 of diamonds. Go.” — Vince Lonigan

“I came from dirt. I put my 20 in on the force. Sa — Vince Loniganved every penny. And I built this. I did this. This. This is mine.”

]]>http://brainsandcareers.com/sneaky-pete/feed042450Endocrine Fluxhttp://brainsandcareers.com/big-mouth
http://brainsandcareers.com/big-mouth#respondMon, 05 Mar 2018 00:20:05 +0000http://brainsandcareers.com/?p=42284Netflix original comedy Big Mouth dropped its first season September 29, 2017. #BigMouth season 2 has been confirmed. rottentomatoes: 100% metacritic: 80 imdb: 8.1 Jessi Glaser Jessi Glaser and her compatriots at Bridgeton Middle School are haunted by Where the Wild Things Are monsters who verbally express their pubescent inclinations. “How come in all these videos … Continue reading Endocrine Flux→

Jessi Glaser

Jessi Glaser and her compatriots at Bridgeton Middle School are haunted by Where the Wild Things Are monsters who verbally express their pubescent inclinations.

“How come in all these videos puberty for boys is like the miracle of ejaculation and for girls we’re just a yarn ball of aching tubes? Yeah, exactly. And that’s why we need equal pay. Your dad’s a scumbag DUI attorney.” — Jessi Glaser

“Yeah, it’s like one person playing cards at you. If it’s any consolation, I literally never gave a shit about this from the beginning, so– it doesn’t get any cooler when you get, like, really angry. Oh, no. Those girls are gonna eat him alive, and then barf him out because they’re bulimic. Huh. I kinda thought we were going to the dance as a group. Andrew, dial it down. Everybody can see your feelings. Nope.” — Jessi Glaser

“Good evening, Nicholas. You psyched for your ‘big date?’ Yeah, you should be psyched. Just be prepared for some super-intellectual conversation. Why do you keep looking over at Andrew? Of course, yeah. She’s a beautiful complex woman whose eyes go dead when she applies lip gloss. Yeah. Yeah, I can see her.” — Jessi Glaser

“Hi. I know, but I want to say it so bad. Can I just say it one time and you cover your ears? I told you so! I do, a little. But I feel like I can feel even better… …if you heard it. Really? Olivia only likes jeggings. No! She’s the idiot. You’re… you’re cute, even though you’re tiny. You’re like a troll doll who’s figured out his hair. You’re welcome…? Uh! Tongue. You have a really big mouth. The flicking was an interesting choice. Yeah, no, I think that’s like a good idea. Sure, no problem. Good evening, good sir. Oh, boy.” — Jessi Glaser

“I feel gross and nothing looks good. Mom, you think I look cute in everything. Really? They were my male cousins. Hi. Oh–! Oh, a hug? No, I mean, yeah, we could do that, or… what if we did like a whirr…? I– I think maybe… yeah.” — Jessi Glaser

“At the back of the bus? Thank you, good sir. Oh–! Are we supposed to be doing that? Yeah, it just feels early in the morning to be making out. I’m actually good with, like, a light hand-hold. Good. Couples pics? Don’t you remember last week when we made fun of people with shared Instagram accounts? Uh, okay. I guess I’ll see you up there for a… ‘couples pic.'” — Jessi Glaser

“Ugh. We’re not married. I guess. I mean, we kissed, we texted twice, then suddenly we’re sitting in the back of the bus with the couples. Who was drunk. He told you that? What else did he tell you? Andrew, it’s just me. Ugh! I’m not a lady. You know what? Forget I said anything. What?! I’ve got to go to the bathroom right now.” — Jessi Glaser

“I’m fine. Do not get Coach Steve. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. This is not happening. I just got my first period in the fucking Statue of Liberty. Okay, I just need to find something to… what the hell? Oh, my God, this is the worst. What sadistic female-hating janitor stocks this bathroom? Actually, Andrew, can you come in here? Just get in here! Okay, I would never tell a guy this, but since it’s just you… …I got my period. There isn’t any!” — Jessi Glaser

“Well, it doesn’t feel good. Just go to the gift shop and see if they have any… feminine products. Blood is coming out of my vagina! What am I gonna do? Oh, thank God, a woman. I’m so scared right now. There’s so much blood. Am I gonna be okay? Ugh. What if I don’t want to be a woman? I like how I am now. You’re kind of a bummer. Jesus, is there anything good about being a woman?” — Jessi Glaser

“This is not amazing. Agh-hh! Who… what are you? If you’re here to tell me how horrible being a woman is, the Statue of Liberty and mu mom already covered that. I am? It’s my baseball mitt. Hey! But I don’t want to scream at my mom. You’re very beautiful. Why do you smell so good? Get the hell out, Shannon! I said get out!” — Jessi Glaser

Shannon Glaser

“Jessi, what’s taking so long? Oh, honey, that’s how the fashion industry wants you to feel, so you spend all your money at Forever 21 on clothes made by Malaysian toddlers, who smoke, by the way. Why don’t you just wear the white shorts? You always look so cute in them. No, I don’t. You wear some things I find very unflattering.” — Shannon Glaser

“Did you know that tampons are taxed as a luxury item? Yeah. It’s a real luxury to stick a wad of cotton up your crotch.” — Shannon Glaser

Connie the Hormone Monstress

“Hello, my precious little ravioli. Shh! Quiet, baby. I am the Hormone Monstress. The French are full of shit, your mother’s a woman in decline. You’re on the rise, girl. But you’ll have to make some changes, dumpling. For instance, what the fuck is this? Get rid! Listen to me! You want to shoplift lipstick, you want to listen to Lana Del Rey on repeat while you cut up all your T-shirts. You want to scream at your mother and then laugh at her tears! She’s not your mom anymore. From now on, you call her Shannon. I know. Because I don’t use deodorant and I only take bubble baths. Beautifully done, my little gyoza. These are going to be the greatest years of your life.” — Connie the Hormone Monstress

“Yes, you can. You are a woman now, and this is what women do. We suck up all the bullshit that the world dumps up on us and keep smiling through it all in our boxy ass dresses!” — Connie the Hormone Monstress

“Hey, so this, like, dance on Friday, I think I’m not gonna go. I’m not gonna ask a girl. I don’t need that kind of rejection. But Jay’s been bragging that he’s gonna get fingered at the dance. He’s gonna get fingered. Of course, ’cause when you do kiss a girl, to make it official… major tongue. Ideally. Yeah, you want to get in there like a Claritin to just dissolve. Yeah. It’s nice to talk like men.” — Andrew Glouberman

“Ow! It stings. But it’s worth it. What are you doing? Hi. Don’t look. No! Sorry. I don’t know. I don’t even know what you’re talking about. No, no, no, you gotta be kidding me. Nick is right there, sir. And I’m a good person. I wouldn’t do that laying next to a friend. Oh, my God, you’re always right. What the hell is wrong with me? no. Nick’s grandmother gave him that clock. Yeah, she did. Okay. Me. I’ve got the cream. Oh, my God. Oh, Susan. Susan actually came to the summer outing, and she said that I was really sprouting into a fine young man. Susan, show me your top naked. Oh, God. Oh, God, okay. So, Susan, um, what’s it like to be in human resources? Uh…! I’m done. Wait. What do we do about the mess?” — Andrew Glouberman

“So we’re not going to Jay’s to play basketball? Oh. Well… this is me. I’ll see you at school on Monday? Thank you. I’ll get out on the curb side now. Traffic side. Bye, Mrs. Birch.” — Andrew Glouberman

“Whoa, what the hell is he doing? What the hell? You asked Olivia to the dance? You said you were going with us. That’s bullshit. I’m not acting weird, you’re acting weird. Fuck you. Just… fuck you, man.” — Andrew Glouberman

“Oh, hi, Missy. That’s great. So should I pay for my ticket in ancient Sumerian silver? I wouldn’t know, We decided to come alone. Yeah, I guess.” — Andrew Glouberman

“I came in my pants. Why are you being to mean to me? You’ve been mean to me all week. What did I do? Yeah, so? Well, count your blessings. Mine’s not so great either. Mine just made me jizz in my nice pants. It’s embarrassing. Everything is so embarrassing. My pants are in the toilet. That is a great question, Nick. It’s because I panicked. What am I gonna do?” — Andrew Glouberman

“So, what’s the deal with you and Jessi? Have you seen her since, you know, the kiss? Oh, my God. I guess she likes you? No, I’ve seen it. You don’t send it lightly. A lot of Nick’s appeal is revealed the more you get to know him. I knew I shouldn’t have said anything.” — Andrew Glouberman

Nick Birch

“Mom, Andrew’s here. Okay, can we be excused? Mom! Can you not do this in front of Andrew? Mom, loosen your grip. Okay, we’re going up now, goodbye.” — Nick Birch

“From the corner! Swish-hh! Oh, please. Yes, you are. We’re gonna go as a group– me, you, Jessi and Jay. What? Okay, first if all, I think he’s got that wrong. Either that or you have grossly misquoted him. And Jay hasn’t even kissed a girl, I guarantee it. None of us have. Not, you know, with tongue anyway. There’s gotta be tongue. You want to flick your tongue around. And you really want to get your tongue underneath hers, too. Yeah. We know what we’re talking about. Yeah.” — Nick Birch

“Duke? Duke Ellington? Ghost of Duke Ellington, are you up here? You know, sometimes, it feels like you’re the only one I can turn to. Yeah. Duke, I saw Andrew’s penis, and it was, like, way bigger and hairier than mine. What’s the reason? So what’d you do? No shit? So you’re saying– so I should find the prettiest girl in school and ask her out? I think I do. Thanks, Duke. Yeah, that’d be nice.” — Nick Birch

“Here we go, Nick. Don’t mess this up, don’t mess this up. Ugh! Hey, Olivia, this is like a stupid idea, but do you wanna, like, go to the dance with me? Oh. Okay, great. Yeah, cute. Great. It’s a palindrome. Okay, bye. Hey, guys. Yeah. What’s the big deal? Yeah, but I mean, it’s not like we had definitive plans. Yeah, you’re acting kind weird. Dude, I’m allowed to go to the dance with whoever I want. It’s not like you’re my girlfriend or something.” — Nick Birch

“Hey, Duke. I’m honestly more nervous about seeing Andrew. He said, ‘fuck you’ to me yesterday. What happened? Did you guys make up? Wow, that must have been really tough.” — Nick Birch

“Good evening, Jessica. Yeah, well, Olivia’s pretty much the hottest girl in school, so… mm, I’m pretty psyched. I’m not looking at Andrew, I’m excited for my date with Olivia. Well, Jessi, this has been so much fun. But it looks like my super hot eighth-grade date has arrived. Oh, hey, Olivia. You want to get a drink or something? I think they have La Croix. It’s only the coconut kind, which is a little gross, but it’s still kinda– oh–who? I thought we were going to this dance, like, together. Um, actually, sweets and fats are at the top of the food chain.” — Nick Birch

“Jessi, please, I don’t want to hear ‘I told you so.’ Well, I’m glad you feel better. Uh-huh. I don’t know, I guess I thought Olivia liked me. I get it, Jessi, I’m an idiot. Thank you…? What do I do? What do I do? What do I do? What do I do? Thank you, I think? Yeah. Tongues feel weird. Ahem. Yeah, I guess I should probably go check on Andrew. Yeah, but thank you for the… ahem. Good night, milady.” — Nick Birch

“What happened to you? And that made you soaking wet? What are you talking about? You didn’t do anything! I– I saw your… and it was big and hairy. And mine isn’t, and I don’t know if it ever will be. Everything’s embarrassing. Oh, man. Andrew, why didn’t you wash them in the sink? Well, Matthew, it’s been a great night in ancient Mesopatamia– uh, Jessi and I would appreciate that you respect our privacy at this time.” — Nick Birch

“Hello? Who are you? Are you the puberty fairy? The puberty fairy?” — Nick Birch

“Yeah. I sent her a text that said ‘hey,’ she sent me a video of a dog dressed like a fisherman. I think so. I mean, the dog had a hat and a raincoat, tiny fishing pole– fun and playful, but also– still figuring out what to send back.” — Nick Birch

Maurice the Hormone Monster

“Did someone say ‘vagina?’ Fuck, yeah, now! If I’m not real, then how come I’m sending blood to your sweet penis right now? ‘Fallopian.’ What a savory word. Describes exactly what it is, you know what I mean? If you want me to go away, you know what you have to do. Jerk off, yeah, yeah, yeah! Exactly. Let’s go to the bathroom and climax into that thin toilet paper. Come on, come on, come on! Wheels up in 30 seconds. If you don’t get out of here right now, we’re gonna ‘Jackson Pollack’ all over your pants. He’s a famous abstract expressionist. Let’s go, let’s go. Not yet. That’s why we gotta go to the bathroom, sweetheart.” — Maurice the Hormone Monster

“Knock knock. Who’s there? It’s the Hormone Monster. And? Then why am I here? Nothing. You’re a perfectly normal gross little dirtbag. Now stare at the cat clock and massage your dinger. She knew what she was doing. Oh… what a little clock-tease. Her eyes are darting back and forth, thinking, ‘meow-meow, who’s got the cream?’ It’s okay. It’s okay. Just picture your dad’s associate Susan. Mmm… yeah. That’s right. Look at her sinewy arms. Yeah. And she’s got Fallopian tubes. Good night, you prince of Westchester, you king of the tri-state area. Sleep in it, pig. Mwah.” — Maurice the Hormone Monster

“Who cares? Nick’s a baby. Let’s watch the sex scene from Dallas Buyers Club. Or, here’s an idea– maybe he’s jealous of hwat a fucking man you are. You should kick his ass. Do that curbing thing where you stick his teeth on the edge of a curb and stomp on the back of his head, what’s that called? Yeah, that makes sense. You should curb Nick. Now let’s watch McConaghey bang two meth heads at a rodeo, and try not to think about AIDS. Andrew… I’m thinking about AIDS.” — Maurice the Hormone Monster

“Hey, are you out of your goddamn mind? This is a real girl. Oh, she’s a girl, and she wants to dance with you. Fucking forget about that little Pikachu and dance with a girl! Yeah, yeah, yeah, you’re both doing great. Now let’s get a little friction going. Yeah. Oh, yeah, yes, that’s it. Don’t be afraid to lead with your groin, the world’s slowest hula hoop. Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Take it easy. We’re 70 yards from the bathroom, brother. You need to slow it down. Fuck it. If you’re okay with it, I’m okay with it.” — Maurice the Hormone Monster

“Oh, uh, good evening. Don’t worry about it. I’m just here to give your friend a nocturnal emission. The fuck did you just call me?! ‘Puberty fairy?’ I’m the Hormone Monster. I’m not a fairy. I mean, sure, I fuck around with dues but I’m not a fairy.” — Maurice the Hormone Monster

“They’re a gaggle of rancid cunts. Nick and Andrew, you’re friends again. Nick’s pants are gone. The teachers look poor. What the fuck is going on? Boring! Nick, we heard you kissed Jessi in the hallway. Sounds like he fingered her. Join us tomorrow when we find out Coach Steve lives in a joke of an apartment near the airport.” — Matthew

“God, I love field trip day! Can’t wait to see which one of these dopes forgot their permission slip. And you two, Devin and Devin, aka the Devins. You look great as always, you post-racial power couple. It’s like genuinely not a big deal. Speaking of couples, Nick, what’s the deal with you and Jessi? Uh! Listen to me, Nick, you’re a cute little nugget. You’re funny, sometimes, but you’re tiny and you need a hook. Jessi’s on the rise. Smart girls are having a moment, for now. Frankly I’m not even sure what she sees in you. Huh! And then there’s this one. You and Male Lesbian are middle-of-the-bus people. Want to make it to the back? Lock it down with Jessi and lose ‘Billie Jean King.’ Yeah. Yeah, I can see this. It’s not for me but people will like it. It’s Starbucks. It’s what America wants.” — Matthew

Missy

“I’ll take notes for you, Andrew.” — Missy

“Oh, hey, guys, I just wanted to remind you, the theme of the dance is ‘A Night in Ancient Mesopotamai.’ We’re gonna put the ‘social’ back in social studies. I love magic! It’s like juggling, but it’s definitely more confrontational, that’s for sure. Wow, Jay! I could barely tell that you had the card palmed in your hand when you reached into your mouth.” — Missy

“Hey, Andrew. Oh, actually, just for tonight could you refer to me as ‘Nanshe?’ The goddess of social justice… and also fishing. I get it. Mesopotamian silver mines weren’t actually operational until the mid-Bronze Age. That’s a great one. Where’s Nick? You know, I find that being alone is actually a great gift because it prepares you for what real life is, um, is like. Oh, hi, Andrew. Would you perchance like to celebrate the autumnal equinox with a, um… with a… with a dance with me? Oh, great. We can just– so we can start now, ’cause I know how to do it. I’ve practiced with my dad. I’ve never danced with a boy before. What am I supposed to say? Whoa, what’s wrong? But the dance isn’t– oh, darn it.” — Missy

Elliot Birch

“Am I a lucky guy or what? I’ve got this beautiful family, a gorgeous home, the sounds of Duke Ellington– a great African-American American. Andrew, did you know that Duke Ellington died in this house? That’s right. What can I say? I love cocktail facts, and I also love this woman. Not only did she prepare a fantastic meal and birthed three beautiful children– no drugs. Come here. Give me a whiff. Love you, Nicholas. Love you. And you, too, Andrew. What a fantastic best friend. The kid’s dynamite.” — Elliot Birch

“Nicholas, we’re your parents. You can tell us anything. And now you’re worried you’re a homosexual? Nicky, a man can touch another penis or even kiss one, very lightly, and it still doesn’t necessarily mean he’s a homosexual. When I was an undergraduate– your mother knows this story– it’s better. That’s right. He has. Mm-hmm. Engorged nipples. And you may, like me, never have a very big penis. But if you understand a woman’s body, and more importantly her emotions, it doesn’t matter. And you’re my Cinderella.” — Elliot Birch

“Poor kid. You know, when I was Nicky’s age I had a bald little cashew, and my friend Don Kinney, he had this great big sausage nestled in a thick robin’s nest of pubic hair. It was something to behold. Yeah. The system is so broken. You like that? Mm-hmm. Wow, 12 hours and one minute. Anyway, I think this is something the boys need to figure out for themselves.” — Elliot Birch

Diane Birch

“Oh, please. Nick slipped right out of me. He’s family. Anyway, he shouldn’t be afraid of a vagina. Once you pay the ‘snuggle tax.’ Come here. Oh, I could eat you alive. You smell like fresh-buttered baby. I want to put you back up inside.” — Diane Birch

“What’s going on? I thought Andrew was staying over all weekend. Nick? Honey, it;s fine if you are. And by the way, you could do a lot worse than Andrew Glouberman. Sweetheart, Andrew’s started to become a man. He’s developed secondary sex characteristics. Thicker eyebrows… engorged nipples. Mom! His penis is changing, from a boy penis to a man’s penis. It’s true, Nicky. Before I met your father I was with some men who were very well-endowed, and honestly, it was too much for me– your father’s penis is my glass slipper. Gimme a break. I’m sure Andrew and his parents have had very similar conversations.” — Diane Birch

“Andrew hasn’t been over since the night of the penis, and I think Nicky misses him. Is Don the one who only got house arrest for insider trading? Oh, Elliot, I love it when you talk about broken institutions. Oh, yeah. Whew! That was astounding.” — Diane Birch

Barbara Glouberman

Marty Glouberman

“Barbara, what are you doing with my last good banana? Oh, he doesn’t need to know anything. Please, the next time you think you need to know something, Andrew, shut your face! Now give me the banana. Jesus, it tastes like condom. Thanks a lot, Mr. Sex Maniac.” — Marty Glouberman

Coach Steve

“All right, look alive, you little maniacs. I bet you’re all, like, completely distracted by the big dance, which I happen to be chaperoning. You know, not a big deal. I mean, they could have asked anyone, but, you know, I volunteered. Let’s just stop talking about the dance and just focus on the fundamentals of basketball. Oh, man, I hope they play music we like. All right, knock it off, you two. Jeez, Louise. Who wants to watch me grab rim? Ooh! I knocked the wind outta my balls. Hope I’m okay for the dance.” — Coach Steve

“So, what’s the deal after this thing? You guys wanna go get drinks? I don’t know, go to Panera, split a bread bowl? Teachers at this school, you know, they never wanna hang out. They’re always ‘so busy.’ Yeah! I mean, that’s, you know… pff-fft! That’s a little harsh, but I think we’re basically on the same page.” — Coach Steve

“Hey, Mr. DJ, you take requests. What about ‘Lady in Red?’ Yeah, sure, unless, I don’t know, you want me to stick around. Are you streaming that? What is that, Wi-Fi? They gave you the Wi-Fi password. Heh. Okay. I got a great memory.” — Coach Steve

“LaGuardia, and, technically, I live in a storage unit, so…” — Coach Steve

Ghost of Duke Ellington

“Hey, hey, Nick! You up here for some advice? I get it, the living don’t always have all the answers. Lucky for you, I’m trapped between two realms. So, what’s the problem? Happened to me once, too. The Cotton Club, 1938. I saw Charlie Parker’s penis in a bathroom, and, good Lord, I felt inferior. I mean, there’s a reason they called him ‘The Bird.’ Because his pubic hair looked like feathers. I went out and made sweet love to Eva Gabor. That’s right, I balled a white woman back when it really meant something. I’m saying, having a pretty girl on your arm can make you feel a thousand feet tall. Bingo-bango! ‘Furry triangle,’ if you know what I’m saying. Happy to help, little big guy. Shall I play you out?” — Ghost of Duke Ellington

“Play it cool. You’ve got the chops.” — Ghost of Duke Ellington

“Nick the Trick. What’s wrong, kid? You nervous about your big date? Ah! I regret one fight I had with my saxophonist, Studs Dupree. It got pretty ugly. Well, I was waiting for him to apologize, and then he died of a heroin overdose. Yeah, I never did get that apology.” — Ghost of Duke Ellington

Charlotte Ritter

Despite being born into a lower-socioeconomic family Charlotte Ritter realizes her dream of becoming the first active female homicide-detective for the Berlin police.

“Everywhere. No. But you know the deal. If you sleep you miss being awake. And I have to be on watch. What about here? Your eyes are magnets And they beam like the stars Your kisses A little technique A little bliss and a little pain. Left pocket. Nothing. Just a bruise. Can you bring me my stockings? The fine ones, please. It’s no big deal, Toni. On the table. I’ll have it tonight. Hey, watch it! You pig. Tonight, I promise.” — Charlotte Ritter

“Don’t. Stop it. I’m going to the police, no lie. Wanna come? Excuse me. Chewing gum? Has old Reckwitz been here? Hello. Who’s the dressy guy? Me. See you tomorrow. Here! Who? And you want me to… catchword register. You took all the pictures? Thanks.” — Charlotte Ritter

“Clocking off time. Sorry. Yes, thanks. This should be yours. I hope you’re with vice. Goodbye.” — Charlotte Ritter

“What happened? Can you hear me? What? I can’t understand. This? Do you want this? How much? One? Good? I’ll get help. But you are bleeding. Do you know how many men’s restrooms there are in headquarters? Fifty-two. And how many ladies’? You don’t have to. I get it. I’m Charlotte Ritter. Gereon? Where are you from, the Middle Ages? Are you sure? Alright. I’ll close the door, ok?” — Charlotte Ritter

“Black pudding. What’s up with you going off over nothing today? Why not? But I got the sausage. You didn’t actually go, right? You were at the spinning mill. How much? Who has it? If you go to work, you can’t keep up in school. Don’t distract, madam.” — Charlotte Ritter

“Doesn’t look like an accident though. I beg your pardon. Well, the injures look even, don’t they? A two-pack of Havana Gold, please. Oh, it’s for the boss. Oh, he’s not always like this. No. But sometimes he’s less gruff. I don’t like it, either. You want to investigate? My boss would ask. Thank you. For better times. Alright. So what else does your landlady know about this Kardakov? I’ve got two ears. So? Interesting. I have to go. Alright.” — Charlotte Ritter

“What’s wrong? And? What did he say exactly? The doctor. But you won’t get better in that damp slaughterhouse. No way. He should rather go find work. Are you all right in the head? Toni goes to school. That’s what we go to work for. What did you say? Come on, say it again! Go earn some money… …or keep your filthy gob shut! Bastard! Your husband is a rogue.” — Charlotte Ritter

“So? Is that all? Yeah, that was before Erich. You didn’t have to marry the creep because of the brat and get knocked up again. I took care, Ilse. Look at yourself. You’re sitting in a dump, you’ve locked yourself in.” — Charlotte Ritter

“Greta? Greta Overbeck from Gröningshusen on Darss? What are you doing in Berlin? I… I’m on my lunch break, are you hungry? come on, it’s on me. I see. Somehow I’ve heard this story before. No. Him? Maybe. Yes. Correct. And if I put some work into it, I can een become an inspector. Some of the guys are pretty strange, but my boss trusts me blindly. The murder victims? Of course. I’m always the first on the scene, me and the detective sergeant. Gruesome stuff sometimes. Recently we had one with no head. The axe was still there. Then we found the head later. You won’t believe where. Excuse me. Oh, it’s… one o’clock already. I have to run. But listen, are you up for going dancing later? At Moka Efti, Friedrichstrasee, 9 p.m. I’m glad you’re here.” — Charlotte Ritter

“Hello. I have a question. How do you become an assistant investigator. Elementary school. Just like that? To whom? Female police? What do they do? I want the homicide squad. Where do I get those application forms? Thank you.” — Charlotte Ritter

“May I interrupt? I won’t be long. This is Greta. Comes highly recommended. The showers at the Palace are out of order, hence the request. Can we borrow from the wardrobe? Come on. We will. You get three marks per visit. You’ll be able to take a room by tomorrow. And you can borrow the clothes. You just have to return them. You just have to wash them, but… you can take what you like. Greta? But Greta, you’re beautiful. But why not? I promise, it’s not that bad. You can choose the guys. If you don’t like them, you rebuff them. That’s how it works. Is it inflamed? It’s ok. We’ll find something for you. Come here. Everything will be alright. My sweet Gretha.” — Charlotte Ritter

“Hello. I have an application. For deputy inspector. Homicide. I’ll hand it in later.” — Charlotte Ritter

“You promised. The certificate of conduct. Spotless. I want to join the police, Bruno. Because I know I’d be good. Yes. The Cologne guy didn’t do it.” — Charlotte Ritter

“Why? Do you know what they’ll do with her? Mother won’t go to the Charité. I don’t want that. I don’t want them to cut her up. I will.” — Charlotte Ritter

“The train will be sent back. Including the wagon with the gold. There is. The wagon numbers were swapped. You opened the wrong one. The gold is still in there. They want to take it out on the way to Russia, before the border, with a robbery. Men of the Black Reichswehr. Tomorrow.” — Charlotte Ritter

Inspector Gereon Rath

Polizei vice-squad special-investigator Gereon Rath uncovers a Russian revolutionary cell The Red Fortress operating out of post-WWI/pre-WWII Berlin, Germany with a royal Bolshevik bankroll train-car full of gold bars.

“We have to take all this. Every photo, film, can, everything. You’re in charge. We mustn’t lose any detail. You two, pack everything into the car. Mr. König. A rat is what you are. Too much shit stuck on you. We’re not done here. Closing time. Come on out. You’ll shoot me up here and let me colleague downstairs get you? Sure he will. He’s got a gun. A bigger one than that toy of yours. Thanks. Yes, I’m afraid it fell down the shaft back there.” — Gereon Rath

“Where do you know that guy from? Only the final game. The Siegfried Line. Apparently. Thank you. Thanks. Right, where’s Wolter? What? I’ll deal with this. You know what I’m looking for. Where is the film? He won’t pay. That’s why I’m here. Get the paramedic. And come to me when he can be interrogated again.” — Gereon Rath

“I’ve still got work to do. Listen, Bruno. Why did you start without me? Tomorrow we’ll swap. I beg your pardon. I think those are yours. This must be yours. Yes, many thanks. And I hope you’re with the homicide squad.” — Gereon Rath

“I don’t have it. Why? It was taken secretly. I’ll take it now. And, Mr… don’t tell anyone about this. You have never seen this picture. Bruno, we could interrogate the man together.” — Gereon Rath

“Where is the film? Come on, blackmail is a little ambitious for you. Tell me who your clients are, where the film is, and you can go. Very good idea. And now? And then? You won’t get out of here. Not alive. Think about it, König. We’re not after you. You have nothing to worry about. No.” — Gereon Rath

“Inside pocket. Please. It’s not mine. Am I wrong here or is it you? May I ask you a favor? You do? Rath, Gereon. From Cologne. I’ll manage on my own. Yes.” — Gereon Rath

“A call to Cologne. Thirteen-zero-eight. Thank you. It’s me. Can you talk? König is dead. No. Just one single picture. Not yet. He grabbed my gun. Who are they? Benda? Councillor. Together with the chief inspector. Yesterday afternoon. Pardon? He tried to resist arrest by escaping. I am aware of that. The Lord Mayor of Cologne is being blackmailed. Dr. Adenauer. My most senior employer. The affair is unsavory. To be dealt with before the elections. I knew König. A stuck-up, arrogant chap. Until this morning. He was changed. A different guy. I think there is a contracting entity. Here in Berlin. Yes. Please. My mother died immediately after the war. From Spanish flu. Dr. Adenauer took good care of the concerns of the family. He was a strong support for both my father and me during a difficult time. Nowhere since this morning, my hotel is fully booked. Yes. I’d love to. Who? Alright, thanks. Please take me to Hermmanplatz first. Yes, please. I’m with Wolter. It’s my shift. Come with me. Have you heard? König wasn’t a guy who would kill himself. Who is afraid that König would spill? Where did you record this? Who are the women? Which one? Thank you, Jänicke. Well, if that’s not lucky. No. You? I’ll take the room. Weekly.” — Gereon Rath

“Thank you. I can’t eat anymore. It was really very good. You do? Oh, really? thank you. My father used to be a regular there. If all goes well. Pardon? No. Again, thank you very much. What do you mean? What do you want, Bruno? I won’t tell you. Where to? No, thanks. Doesn’t go with that. With stupid questions.” — Gereon Rath

“Dear Helga, Thank you for your letter which I received yesterday. It is good to know that everything is alright at home. Here, it’s not that simple. I don’t want to alarm you… but I still can’t tell you for sure when I’ll come home. Unforeseen incidences have stopped me from speedily fulfilling my tasks for the foreseeable future. If I look at the hustle and bustle around me, I think of our dreams, and I feel a kind of hope I hadn’t known before. The hope that we will find a way out of this secrecy… out of this secretiveness. Maybe even here in Berlin. Please think about it. And say hi to the boy from me. With best regards, yours, Gereon.” — Gereon Rath

“Yes. Have you seen the man before? Who? Who was in there before me? The suitcase in my room? Where did Kardakov go? Then why did he leave his instrument here? I followed my brother to the front. Then I came back alone. My mother couldn’t cope. For her, the wrong son returned home. I’ll take the suitcase down tomorrow, if you’ll allow me. Good night.” — Gereon Rath

“That man was a Russian. At least he spoke Russian. Gereon Rath, special investigator from Cologne. That man broke into my flat last night. Something from the previous tenant, a certain Mr. Kardakov. When he tried to escape, he was pushed into a car and threatened with a gun. Could have been a Tatra. Maybe. His hands didn’t look like this yesterday. What happened? You mean this was done to him? Kardakov. That’s all I know. My landlady didn’t know him very well, either, but I might… yes. Excuse me, but this man may have been tortured. What’s this?” — Gereon Rath

“A ten-pack of Overstolz. And I’ll have a newspaper. A Morgenpost. Thank you. You smoke cigars? I don’t envy you. You mean, he’s actually a nice guy? Well, then. We can ignore the odd murder. That man was scared. He wasn’t a tough guy. I realized that too late. It’s not that simple. It’s your department. But no one would ask any questions if you did some research. He doesn’t have to know. Cigarette? You remembered the name. Not much. Allegedly, he’s on tour. But he didn’t take his suitcase. I’ll be in touch. And thank you again. For the other day.” — Gereon Rath

“I work for the police.” — Gereon Rath

, a combat veteran of the Imperial German Army during World War I and a policeman in both Cologne and Berlin. A Roman Catholic and family friend of future West GermanChancellor Konrad Adenauer, Inspector Rath struggles to reconcile his Faith with his ongoing affair with Helga Rath, his sister in law. Rath also struggles with PTSD linked to his war experiences and survivor’s guilt over the loss of his brother, Anno Rath, who is still listed as missing in action. Secretly, Rath self-medicates by taking morphine.

Detective Chief Inspector Bruno Wolter

Chief Inspector Bruno Wolter is implicated in an attempted military-coup in violation of the treaty of Versailles the Black Reichswehr with the express goal of reinstating Kaiser Wilhelm II as the king of Germany.

“You got the runs or something? Go on, open it. Vice squad. This is a raid! Show is over. Ladies and gentlemen, form an orderly row, pack away your genitals and keep your mouths shut. And who are you? Who’s that supposed to be? Look, God’s also in it. And the Virgin Mary, the boy with the curly hair, everyone’s here. No offense, but we can’t let him get away with that. I know you. Get them all out of there. Maybe you do things differently in Cologne, but her in the capital it’s a good idea to draw your weapon first. I’ll let Willi know, you’ll have it back tomorrow. Right, you nitwit. Say thank you. I can’t hear you. And do you know what for? I just saved your arse from being tried as a cop killer. You’ve still got the attempted cop murder going for you, apart from the filth and those little boys. You speak when I ask you a question. Maybe this bullet was never fixed. And somehow you got away up here. You know what I mean, right? Right. And now introduce yourself to my colleague from Cologne. Name? Beg your pardon? Rank and regiment? Pardon? Residence. I see. I get it. Now listen. Erwin in the kiosk… at the underground station. He’s our guy. You’ll report to him at 12 sharp. And when we ask you a question then, you’ll have the answer. Come on, you trembler. Pull yourself together.” — Bruno Wolter

“Here, a little souvenir of your exciting time in the capital. Krajewski? Believe it or not, he used to be one of us. A police officer. He honestly thought he could just go back to working after the war. A trembler. One day, he’s at an operation. There’s a huge shoot-out… and that chicken can’t get a grip on himself. They kicked him out. No honors for him. Get out of my way, you ninny! At the the front, those chickens folded in droves. Now you just have to breathe on them and the waterworks open. I was in Belgium. And France. What about you? They’re broken automatons… no more. And broken automatons belong on the landfill. Morning, girls.” — Bruno Wolter

“Do you know all the stuff Inspector Rath has collected about you… in the last few weeks since you left Cologne? Let’s talk about him. Let’s hear it. What kind of guy is he? He knows you, so you know him. For you? A kiss. Wait… you’ve got something there. Come on, spill. I know that, mate. I know. Yes, I know all that. But what don’t I know? Why is he with the vice squad? Why not something decent? Murder, corruption… secret police? I want to know what’s between you two. And what he wants from you. Don’t tell me he’s just here because of your filth. Oh man! You’re almost begging to go to prison as a child shagger tonight. Who are you talking about? Gereon Rath? We were just talking about you. Good thing you’re here. I just wanted to take a quick pee.” — Bruno Wolter

“Gereon. I have something for you. Well, our 14 is on the ball. Went down the shaft right away. Barrel calibrated and cleaned, everything spick-and-span. I won’t get involved. Don’t worry. One has to let Polly out of jail. I’m off.” — Bruno Wolter

“The inspector has not acted negligently… will do. It’s Bruno. I need a room. Immediately, ideally. That’s good. It’s for a colleague of mine. It’s six marks a week. If you pay for a whole month, it’s cheaper. Elisabeth will explain it all to you. Behnke, your landlady. She’s the widow of a mate. Jänicke. Now go to your new pad. And tomorrow come over for dinner at ours. Can you drive? Drive a car? Vroom, vroom? Staff car. Take this suitcase and this inspector to 25 Bayreuther St. You’ll bring the car back washed. Why are you still standing here looking helpless? Go. It’s great that everything runs so smoothly around here.” — Bruno Wolter

‘You’re no hero. You’re a traitor. No values. No morals. No courage. This is about something else. And you… you work to rule. Like apple polishers.” — Bruno Wolter

State Councillor August Benda

“How could you let this happen? You knew König. You were sent here because you’ve been trailing this guy for weeks. You must have known what he’s capable of. Nobody is asking you, Wolter! You interrogated him yesterday. And the wounds? This file here says that König arrived at the detention center with injuries. How come? Please excuse us, gentlemen. Mr. Wolter, in private, please. Take a seat, inspector. It would be disastrous in your position to keep something from me. I phoned Cologne earlier. Your father told me you would explain everything. Blackmailed. By König? Meaning? Where is this film? Do you have any leads yet? Good. Don’t lose any time. And as far as the incident with König is concerned, leave the apparatus in the castle, the press and Wolter to me. Cigarette? Your father mentioned you have a personal connection with Dr. Adenauer? Where do you stay, Rath? We’ll take care of it. Are you Catholic? Do come to mass on Sunday. St. Antonius in Friedenau. I play the organ. And Mr. Wolter, please provide our colleague with accommodation. Long-term.” — August Benda

“Is this the exact wording? Very good. Any other new findings? Unforeseen risks? You must never be sure of anything. You know how sensitive this affair is. At some point the decisive clue will present itself. We must not miss this moment. You’re doing a good job, Stefan. But strike the word ‘security’ from your vocabulary.” — August Benda

Toni Ritter

“Where’s Lotte? Lotte? Where have you been? Haven’t you slept at all? And right off to work? I don’t know how you do it. Paradise. Leopold? Connecting wires Between Earth and Heaven A little love They are the engine of the machine And busy is the stupid heart. Did you bring something? Yellow. I haven’t got that one yet. Lotte?” — Toni Ritter

“It was nothing. I did. Just a few hours. They needed someone. One fifty. Ilse, of course. Finished. As good as new, madam. Yes, mother?” — Toni Ritter

“Yes, please. No, doctor, but I… we got caught this morning. They’ve got König. He didn’t destroy the film. He tried to make some money with the film. On his own account.” — Franz Krajewski

“Where’s the other one? Sure. Stuff like that spreads like wildfire. The… emperor? König was a mystery-monger. No one knew for whom he was doing these films. But he made good money. This one, I know her. This one. That’s… Mutti from Wedding.” — Franz Krajewski

Erich Ritter

“What’s with that blood noise? And where is the rent? No. Half is missing. Who can piss with a hard-on? Why don’t you touch it?” — Erich Ritter

“And at ours? With or without? Bloody bitches.” — Erich Ritter

Ilse Ritter

“What do you think? Without you? That would be nice. Get going. We need briquettes. Jesus, Karlchen, get on the bench! Do I have to write it on your forehead? Now! Haven’t slept all night. Mother was coughing, Erich was puking, grandpa wet the bed, Toni was crying, Magda was yelling, Karlchen had diarrhea. And Lotte wasn’t home, as always. And how was school today? Grandpa!” — Ilse Ritter

“I used to sit by your bed. You were different then. We used to treat each other differently. I didn’t choose him. You can talk. You’ve just been lucky so far. What a smug bitch you’ve become.” — Ilse Ritter

Minna Ritter

“Lotte! Lotte! We need 20. Schröder will kick us out.” — Minna Ritter

“Dolly? You need to rub some rubbing alcohol on me.” — Minna Ritter

Alexei Kardakov

“Sveta. It all went well.” — Alexei Kardakov

“Everyone here? Comrades. A few hours ago I received a message from our comrades at home. The train crossed the border this morning. It’s coming straight to Berlin. Long live the Fourth International! Down with Stalin! Long live our comrade Trotsky! Long live the Red Fortress! Reinvent the world in a better way.” — Alexei Kardakov

“Drive on, please. You have to put the number of the car there. And here the destination station. Everyone at the printer’s is ready. And you made it possible. And I you.” — Alexei Kardakov

“Good work, mate. No difference to the original. Wagon number AB three-two-two-one. And the signature. Thanks.” — Alexei Kardakov

“From Russia. My country is doomed. I must help prevent this. That’s what I need the gold for. I promise… this deal will be more than worth your while. Please. Help me.” — Alexei Kardakov

Gräf

“I’d like the lady with the green hat. Thank you. Miss Ritter? Right? The Buddha wants… Gennat, the chief of the homicide squad. Gennat wants to create a catchword register with descriptions of all murder cases of the last 13 years. Like this: crime scene, murder weapon, condition of the body. Everything, really. You describe what you see, and in a systematic way. Take this, for example. Axe murder, split skull, amputation. The pictures are organized by case. On the back are the date and case number. Correct. Later on, we can look for parallels. Like if someone uses the same weapon several times or a perpetrator… upstairs there are three times as many. One mark an hour, I’ll sign off tomorrow morning.” — Gräf

“I’m sorry, but when a picture is so ruined… if you had the negative, I could work with that. Was it a professional photographer, I mean cameraman? It’s very thinly lit. It’s a miracle you can see anything at all. Very well. When it’s finished, where may I deliver it to, Inspector? Gräf.” — Gräf

Countess Svetlana Sorokina

“You are my hero. Alexey.” — Svetlana Sorokina

“No less!” — Svetlana Sorokina

“Do you have the papers? Very good. AB 32-2-1. Istanbul. Tomorrow, a new chapter will begin for the Russian people. And you will finish it. Kardakov… I love you.” — Svetlana Sorokina

“To ashes, to dust Stolen from the light But not yet now Miracles wait until the end Ocean of time Eternal law To ashes, to dust To ashes But not yet now To ashes, to dust Stolen from the light But not yet now Miracles wait until the end It might just be a dream Trying to snatch the wind Who really knows? The clock on your wall It is filled with sand Put your hand in mine And let us be forever Now you make your choice And throw us in between happiness and agony But I can forgive you You are very close to death But your eyes are still clear Does it recognize me? I’m ready To seek immortality with you It must be just a dream Trying to snatch the wind Who really knows? You are very close to death But your eye still clear Does it recognize me? I’m ready To seek immortality with you.” — Svetlana Sorokina

“My father had this wagon built. Shortly before the revolution. And then he hid it from the Bolsheviks. For 12 years. For years I have been trying to free my family’s treasure from Stalin’s claws. Your train was my last chance. Since the tank wagon arrived in Berlin, no one has opened it. Yes.” — Svetlana Sorokina

Edgar “The Armenian”

“Times change. Your brother’s reliability has waned. You deliver 35,000 bottles of arrack per year. I supply the entire city, you remain silent, I pay you well, we could all be happy. There have been complaints about the quality of the alcohol. More and more often. Then I had them investigate and made an interesting discovery. Right? Your good, thoroughly honest and very punctual Sandor simply swapped your fine brew for cheap booze. Did he think I wouldn’t notice? Did he think the fine tongues of our guests would fail? Even though the tongue is the most sensitive and has the most blood supply of all human sensory organs. What’s with the whimpering? Mr. Kardakov, please. Thank you. The tongue… is unique. A small miracle of nature. Which is why it is also a delicacy. Enjoy your octopus, Mr. Gosztony. Doctor. Oh, please. How can I help? König? I’ll deal with it.” — Edgar Der Armenier

“Where is the gold from? And what do you want to use it for? Thank you, doctor.” — Edgar Der Armenier

Elisabeth Behnke

“Behnke speaking. For when? The balcony room has just been vacated. I need to prepare it. Thanks, Bruno. Send the gentleman over, the room will be ready in two hours.” — Elisabeth Behnke

“Come on in. Breakfast is at half six, dinner is extra. That’s at six. Warm on Sundays and Wednesdays, sandwiches the other days. I’ll do the bed linen, but you have to take care of towels and stuff. You can use the balcony as you wish, but please air the room regularly. Are you superstitious? No. On a weekly or monthly basis? Fine. I need an advance for the first three weeks. Mr. Katelbach! Excuse me. Mr. Katelbach? Have you looked at the calendar? End of the month. One more day and you’re moving out. A jazz opera like the other day? No. You’re not airing the room. Sell your complimentary tickets, I want my rent. Vienna again? Who is paying for this trip? When will you pay? What if it doesn’t get printed? First pay, then eat. An Austrian snot. Dumplings.” — Elisabeth Behnke

“Do you want one too? I don’t know. He may have been one of them when they were meeting here. The Russians. Sometimes there were quite a lot of them. Then it got noisy. Politics. In your room. Kardakov was his name. He was a violinist, actually. But when he really got talking… I didn’t understand a word, but if he said, jump! I would have jumped. He had something… sometimes it was uncanny. Yes, that’s his. Sorry, he meant to pick it up yesterday. I’ll take it to the basement tomorrow, and that one too. On tour, for six months. With a whole orchestra. On a cruise ship. All the way to Bosporus, he said. A mysterious guy. Sometimes he told me… he was on the other side in the war, not on ours. ‘They fell… like bees in the freezing cold,’ he said. I once dreamt that it was him who shot my Helmut. And that the Lord sent him to me. What a lot of nonsense. Were you in the war? So you know what it’s like. To wake up in the morning… alone. To hate the silence, and the birds too. All that false peace. Good night.” — Elisabeth Behnke

Doctor Schmidt

“Breathe very calmly. Breathe in… and out. Don’t try to put your thoughts into order. Just let them go. And breathe in every deeply… and out. And when I say ‘now’ you will open your eyes. Now. Yes, close your eyes again. Good. Good. And now delve twice as deeply into your relaxed state than before. Take your time. I will now take your back… to the source. To the source of your fear. I… I will guide you… step by step. Step by step… all the way to the source of your fear. To the truth. You are in Cologne. In your hometown. It is the summer shortly before you are drafted. There is your father. You long for the war so much, you’re dying to finally go away and leave everything behind you. There is the woman you love. But something keeps you apart from her.” — Doctor Schmidt

“Franz, how are you? Do you want to give us another try? Are you off the drugs? Those are the rules, Franz. And…? Why not? I explicitly told him to. That’s not good, Franz.” — Doctor Schmidt

“I don’t want to waste your valuable time. I have been told that our mutual friend is doing business for his own account. König. He put one film aside. The man is endangering our entire operation. Good.” — Doctor Schmidt

Stephan Jänicke

, a Detective in the Berlin Police who has been assigned by Councillor Benda to investigate DCI Bruno Wolter for ties to “The Black Reichswehr.” — Stephan Jänicke

Samuel Katelbach

“Yes? Dear Ms. Elisabeth, I have something very special for you. In three hours, a special show at the Admiralspalast. I promise you, you’ll love it. You’ll get your money when I’m back from Vienna. My publisher, of course. The government in Vienna wants to make a guy from the Middle Ages chancellor and revive the corporative state… as soon as my commentary is printed, you’ll get your money. That, dear Ms. Elisabeth, is a conjunctivus irrealis, an impossibility. However, would it be possible in return to have some of that delicious… said the executioner of the delinquent. I bid you goodbye. You respectful servant. Good day.”

Donatella Versace

Donatella Versace would inherit lead-design responsibilities of The Versace Group after her brother Gianni is slain.

“Get them out, please. That’s not what I need from you right now. What were you saying to the police? What about my brother’s life? What? What will they find out? nothing was ever asked of you except to take care of him. And you couldn’t even do that. You are not to speak to anyone about my brother without consulting me first.” — Donatella Versace

“Please sit down. Well… thank you for coming. For me to talk about business at this time, it’s… kind of crazy, no? As you know, my brother, who I love very much, is dead. And now, the press and the police will rake through his life. Every rumor, every indiscretion. They’ll judge the killer, yes, but they’ll judge the victim, too. At first people weep. Then they whisper. Gianni grew his company from one small store in Milano. On Via della Spiga. With a single rack of clothes, a little wooden bench, and a pietra grigia stone floor. The same stone that’s in our family chapel. Our mother was there, Franca. She was so proud. From that to all this. Everything you see around us. This house, this company… he was a creator, he was a collector, he was a genius. And this company was his life. When he was sad, it made him happy. When he was sick, it kept him alive. And my brother is still alive, as long as Versace’s alive. I will not allow that man– that nobody– to kill my brother twice.” — Donatella Versace

“Gianni had hoped to be the first Italian designer to list his company on both the Milan Borsa and the New York Stock Exchange. The papers with Morgan Stanley were signed. They were signed a week ago. That’s why he was here, in this country. So, I know how much it meant to him. Yes, he would have wanted that. He would have wanted his death to change nothing, but it changes everything. Maybe. But if we are a public company, we are in the hands of strangers, Santo. They can turn against us. For good reasons, bad reasons, fair reasons, unfair ones. This is not a time for strangers. This is a time for family. Tell Morgan Stanley… tell them we will not be listing on the New York Stock Exchange. We’ll remain a private company. A family company. I’m sorry.” — Donatella Versace

“I need to talk to him. What is Versace without you? Who am I without you?” — Donatella Versace

“He wasn’t enough for you? This house, this life. You wanted more. More fun, more men. I understand. That is your business. But why bring him into it? No, he chose you. He went along with it because of you. Because he knew what you were thinking. ‘Not handsome enough for handsome Antonio.’ My brother has a weakness for beauty. He forgives it anything. But I am not my brother. You knew he wanted a family. Why didn’t you give him one? You could have found a way. What have you done for him? What have you given him? Stability? Safety? Children? If you had given him anything, I would have given you respect. But you’ve given him nothing.” — Donatella Versace

“He’s gone, Antonio. There is no need for us to pretend anymore.” — Donatella Versace

“Gianni. Amore-amore mio. Amore mio. Amore mio.” — Donatella Versace

“After everything he survived, to be killed like this.” — Donatella Versace

“Girls, can you give us the room? I need to talk to my brother. What happened? You agreed to try them. Front covers. Everybody’s talking about Galliano and McQueen. What are they doing next? If you want to sell any clothes, yes. I’m worried, Gianni. Our shows were the future once. People see the same models, and they say the same thing. ‘Versace, great, masterful, but I know this guy. I knew him ten years ago, and here he is again.’ Do you really think people will hear those words when they see your clothes? They won’t. Okay, you dress your girls, I dress mine. We’ll see who wins. What dress will end the show? Mm. How original. Our show.” — Donatella Versace

“I handle publicity for this company. This is my responsibility. And this is about more than you. How can you decide this without consulting me? Ah, this is your idea. You want to be famous. Known around the world as Versace’s lover? And your pride is more important than this company? In great comfort, that’s for sure. And what is my place? All these people’s lives depend on you. We’re opening stores in countries where it is illegal. Where it is a crime. You have to visit those countries. They might refuse your entry, refuse a visa, refuse to do business with you. The rock stars, the actors, the royalty whose endorsements we cherish… they might not want to be associated with us. You joke? Joke? We’re talking about the survival of the company. You live in isolation. Surrounded by beauty and kindness. You have forgotten how ugly the world can be. This is not the same. Are you angry with me or with the world? When we list the company on the New York Stock Exchange, what will your admission cost? $1 million? $100 million? Or will it make this company worth nothing? Perry Ellis. When he walked onto the runway dying of AIDS, so weak, his assistants caught him when he took a bow… after that, people stopped buying his clothes. No, Gianni, a lot of people. Answer me this: why now?” — Donatella Versace

“Hi. Thank you. Have we met before? Yeah, Lago de Como, that must be it. Yes. So… yes… she never returned with you? Where were her parents born? Palermo, you said? I used to take the ferry to Palermo when I was a young boy.” — Gianni Versace

“What? No, no, no, darling, look at yourself. Look at yourself in the mirror. Don’t look at me. In the mirror. To adjust a dress, the most important thing is that I look at your face. It’s that I see your face. I learned that from my mother. She was a dressmaker. She had a little store in Calabria. My mother, she would stand with her clients– who she considered her friends– in front of the mirror and study their expressions. Not the fabric, not the dress. Their faces and only when they were happy, only when they smile, when they relax, her work was complete. My clothes serve you, darling. I work for you. I’m not important. It’s you, it’s all about you. Yes? Mm, yes. Now you go.” — Gianni Versace

“Did you enjoy it? You are creative, right? What so you do for work? Really? And then you moved to America. Boyfriend? Your father has a boyfriend? You are? I wish I had the patience to write a novel. But my mind is always moving, you know? I think you need great stillness to write a novel. And I’m never still. For me, family’s everything. Everything. The first dress I ever made was for my sister Donatella. Maybe every dress I make is for her. Makes me smile. The Medusa logo, from my company… you know it? As children, we used to play in ancient ruins close to our home in Calabria. And one day, I saw the Medusa’s head with the… hair of snakes carved on the stone and I fell in love. I know that many people call it pretentious, but I don’t care. How could my childhood be pretentious? My hope is that when people… wear my clothes, they will get to know me a little bit, you know? They will get to know my character, my-my love for life. And I think that the same will happen with your novel. People will get to know you a little bit when they read your novel. No. You should be proud of your name. I know, but I don’t design shoes. But maybe I could try, for your movie. Hmm? You should be. You’re handsome, clever. I’m sure… you’re going to be someone really special one day.” — Gianni Versace

“When I was a child… I had an older sister. Before Donatella was born. Her name was Tina. At ten years old, she became very ill with peritonitis. My parents sent me away to live with my aunt and my uncle while they nursed her. But I couldn’t be away from my family for long, so… one day, I ran all the way back home. And when I walked into the house, I saw her, my older sister, in an open casket surrounded by white flowers. No one had told me she had died. Until that moment, I always believed that if you get sick, you can also get better.” — Gianni Versace

“It will be you. You will find out.” — Gianni Versace

“I try not to be bitter, Antonio. I was never bitter before. If I was sad, I create. If I was angry, I create. But now, I’m too… I’m too sick. I’m too sick to-to work and too sick to… for the first time in my life, I-I’m jealous. I’m jealous of him. I’m jealous of her. I… I just want it out, Antonio. I just want it out, my love. Just get it out of me, my love. Get it… I need us to be a family. I cannot do this if we’re not.” — Gianni Versace

“Mamma mia. Okay. I will continue later. Okay? Yes, Donatella, but I want my models to look like they enjoy life! Like they eat, at least. Like they laugh, like they dance, they make love. What do those girls enjoy? So, you think I cannot make the front cover anymore? Should I be asking myself, ‘what are people talking about?’ No, Donatella. It comes here first. From here, and then, you hire the photographers, and then you throw the parties, and then you ask celebrities to wear our clothes, but that comes second. When did I become the past? Donatella, I get better every day, stronger. It’s a miracle. Maybe one day, I will tire of being thankful that I’m alive. Maybe one day, it won’t seem like a miracle, and I will be able to produce a show as dark and as morbid as you desire. But until that day, life is special. Life is precious, and that is how I feel. And my shows must be about what I feel. If not, they are about nothing. You’re wrong. They will know. They won’t know the details, of course, but they will feel those emotions because the clothes will make them feel them. Perfect. Let’s fight. We’re family, it’s okay to fight. We’ll fight. A bride in a silver dress with a veil pulled back behind her head, not covering her face. Not a virgin bridge, a Versace bridge. She will be a woman who’s loved many men before. A woman who’s finally found her equal, a match for her passions. She won’t be dainty, she won’t be timid. She will be proud and strong. And that’s how I will end my show. Our show. Now get the girls.” — Gianni Versace

“I’ve arranged an interview. The Advocate Magazine. The American publication. For gay readers. I’ve never said it. I’m gay. Yes. Yes, but this is not about you. In what way? The magazine has a modest circulation. Uh, consulting you? Okay, I’m consulting you. What would you advise? Enough! Enough, both of you. I will not… fight over this. It was my idea, it was my idea. Donatella, walk with me. Come. I want you to support me. You know that. Tell me, honestly… …what do you think could happen? Well, at least we keep Elton, no? Is that what you believe? The women we design for, they’re strong, yes? They’re fearless. They’re not ashamed.” — Gianni Versace

“Because I was sick. And I didn’t die. I have a second chance. It’s a miracle that I’m alive. And yet I ask myself every day, what have I done to deserve this? Why am I still here? To be afraid? No. I’m alive and I must use it.” — Gianni Versace

Andrew Cunanan

“Guess who I met? Guess. You have to guess. Gianni Versace. So there I am sitting in the VIP area… I’ll get it. So, sitting in the VIP area at a private members only club– cigars, velvet upholstery… very strict policy on not approaching celebrities, which I would never do, by the way. Ugh. No. So tacky. So I’m talking with my friend and then this… agreeable looking man comes up to me and he introduces himself as Versace. Yes. I say to him, ‘honey, if you’re Versace, I’m Coco Chanel.’ I said that. It’s so embarrassing. And I had to make it up to him later, when he actually did establish himself as… you know, Versace. I’m not really a fan of his clothes, per se, it’s just so… bright. It’s too much, but they say… …that Armani designs clothes for wives. I think that Versace designs clothes for sluts, and don’t you look at me like that. Please, I know the score. There’s a lecherous fag on the prowl. Not nice when it’s said by the wrong person. But what are we supposed to call them? Homosexuals? Hmm? Sounds so… scientific. Anyway, I don’t have a problem with it; it doesn’t bother me. At all. Which is why I agreed. Oh, didn’t I say? He invited me to the opera. He’s designing the costumes for Capriccio. It’s a minor work, but even so. I guess even in minor works, one must wear clothes. My dear, sweet Lizzie. Versace has invited me to the Opera. Of course I said yes.” — Andrew Cunanan

“Signore Versace, buona sera. It’s good to see you in San Francisco. I’m excited to see the opera. I think it’s time we had a contemporary designer working on… yes. Lago de Como. A garden party at your residence. I was by the shore admiring your view and we exchanged a few words. You were most gracious. Of course, I remember it. But for you to remember it, it’s very flattering. My mother’s parents are from Italy. From the south. Schillaci is their family name. Maybe you know them. My mother still feels a very strong connection to the country, but in truth, she’s never been. Can you believe that? An Italian-American that’s never even seen her own country? Honestly, I think she’s scared. It’s almost as if… she wants to keep Italy only in her mind as this perfect place. Palermo. Um, they were born in Palermo. I’ll have whatever he’s having. Oh, yes. They moved to Ohio in 1928.” — Andrew Cunanan

“So I said, ‘Lizzie, I’m not crazy about Versace, but I ceraintly wouldn’t mind going to the opera.’ What? What do you mean? Well… that’s complicated. What does it matter what I said? Only if they know it isn’t true. I thought you’d be happy about it. About Versace. It’s not a brag. I tell people all the time. I’ve told people for years. I… I tell people what they need to hear. Okay. I honestly… truthfully. I swear, I really do have a date with Gianni Versace. Good.” — Andrew Cunanan

“I loved it. I thought it was inspiring. Oh, pfft, of course, very much. Thank you. This and that. And for my first job, I worked for my father on his pineapple plantations in the Philippines– can you imagine that? Picking them in the midday sun. You should’ve seen me. My father was a-a military man. He was a pilot for Imelda Marcos, the First Lady of the Philippines. Yes. He flew one of those old planes, the, um, the type that Buddy Holly died in. Beechcraft Bonanza, they’re called, if you know them. He would fly them low to the ground because Imelda was terrified of crashing, and that is a true story. My father would tell her, ‘Imelda, when you’re flying a plane at 400 miles per hour in a rickety tin can, it doesn’t, it doesn’t matter how high you are.’ My father wanted to have the very best education. Which, of course, I had. He’s retired from the military now. He runs all of his businesses from abroad, ’cause he can. Who knew that there was so much money to made in pineapples? He was here the other day, he was just in town. He was driving around in his Rolls-Royce with his boyfriend as a chauffeur. Please, don’t ask. He left my mom and ran off with one of the young men who worked on the plantations. It was cute, I guess. It’s all so crazy. I’m writing a novel about it. Mm-hmm. Maybe you just need a crazy family. Hmm. That makes me want to cry. Uh, yes, well, that, too. Yeah, of course. So sophisticated. I agree. I’ll send you an advanced copy. You think I should change my name to something a little more literary? I was, I was thinking Andrew DeSilva. When they make a movie of my book, you must design the clothes. You have to. You… for Imelda, think of it. She was a fashion icon, it’ll be perfect. You know she had 3,000 pairs of shoes. Well… maybe. I’m so happy right now.” — Andrew Cunanan

“Ah… yes! Ha! All of them.” — Andrew Cunanan

“Hello. I don’t have a reservation, and I know it’s very unlikely because this hotel has such a great position right next to the oceanfront, but by any chance, do you have a room? I was born in Nice. Have you ever been? It’s beautiful. You should go sometime. I hope to go back soon, maybe raise a family– but first, I need to make my way in the world. I’m a fasion student– I traveled all the way here just so I can share a few words with Mr. Versace. I hear he’s very open to having conversations with young, aspiring students. Don’t judge by the clothes. I don’t have a dollar to spend on them. But I think Mr. Versace will find my conversation very excellent. I would say, ‘sir, nothing is more inspiring to me than that one outfit that Carla Bruni wore.’ It was a skirt of crinoline, like a giant floral handkerchief, fastened with a gold belt, and daringly mismatched with a denim shirt. Are you saying that some people actually leave here without paying. Did you catch him?” — Andrew Cunanan

“I’ll take this camera. And that hat, and… sunglasses, the black ones.” — Andrew Cunanan

“I don’t want to be a pain. I don’t want to be a pain. I don’t want to be a pain. I don’t want to be a pain, but growing up, I spent my summers swimming off the coast of Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat, so, being this close to the ocean, but not being able to see the water… it makes me sad. I won’t say a word. I’m Andy. What does Miriam call you? Know where to score? Did you have a bad experience? I worked at an AIDS awareness initiative in San Diego. I was a volunteer. I’ve helped a lot of people in my life. When they were sick, when they were short cash, or when they needed someone… they came to me. No. I might. I’m not most people. Lost my best friend. And the love of my life. This year. Yeah. I know people. Versace. He’s a fashion designer, lives in… yeah, we met in San Francisco. I was helping him with the costumes for Capriccio. It’s an opera he was working on. And one night… he treated me to a meal at Stars. Anyone who’s anyone eats there. You know it? It made a celebrity out of its head chef. Jeremiah Towers? Well, anyway, that’s when he proposed to me. Didn’t work out, but… we’re still friends. Every day. So I hear. Well, that’s because you don’t know him. The more you know him, the more you’ll like his clothes. The man invented his own fabrics. When they told him what he wanted wasn’t possible, he just created it himself. Ever heard of Oroton? It’s a fine chain mail mesh of aluminum alloy so light that a woman can wear it on a hot summer’s day. I… I don’t see something nice. I see the man behind it. A great creator. A man I could have been. Yeah.” — Andrew Cunanan

“I’m gonna share this with you 50-50. I look after my friends. That’s always been important to me. How many times have you done this before? Two? Three? How many people do you employ in business? 300? You have no idea.” — Andrew Cunanan

“My involvement? Who told you that? Well, I was his partner, not his pimp. What-what do I mean? Partner. His companion. I loved him. Sometimes. No, not always. Sometimes… it was, it was whatever he wanted. No. Of course… 15 years. I lived with Gianni for 15 years, that is the difference. I can, I can find out. Oh, yes, no. Most of the time they just fell for him. He was a genius. He cast a spell. Was I paid? To love him?! Was I paid to love him? Yes, and I’m trying to help, but… no.” — Antonio D’Amico

“What do you need from me? I don;’t know, they were asking some questions. About Gianni’s life. They will find out, Donatella. Everything.” — Antonio D’Amico

“You hate me, don’t you? ‘Cause he chose to. I am not a villain. And he’s not a saint. But we can agree on something. ‘Cause we’re not allowed. He celebrated your marriage. He shed tears of joy in church for your fucking union! What have you done but belittle me and criticize his choice?” — Antonio D’Amico

“Donatella, please. Please.” — Antonio D’Amico

“Yes, what would you advise? For 13 years, I’ve been mistaken for Gianni’s assistant. I’ve lived unseen. I never imagined being publicly acknowledged. I know my place, unlike you.” — Antonio D’Amico

Santo Versace

“We can still go ahead. He would have wanted us to. If we pull out, we won’t be able to try again for many years, Donatella.” — Santo Versace

Elizabeth Cote

“Andrew! Who, who, who? No! What?! Oh, my God, tell me everything. Wait, where is this? Hey, do you want some coffee, honey? No, you didn’t. Hey, faggot is not a nice word. Wait, you agreed to what? And you said yes?” — Elizabeth Cote

“You should have asked. You look very nice. What were you going for? Give me your hand. Mm-hmm. I love you. You are ridiculous. Yes.” — Elizabeth Cote

Detective George Navarro

“Jesus. Who is he? You heard about the Chevy? That’s right. In Miami? Who is he? How many people has he killed?” — George Navarro

“What’s your name?! What’s your name?!” — George Navarro

Detective Paul Scrimshaw

“What was your involvement with Mr. Versace? You were the person who found these, uh, dancers, models, escorts, and brought them back to the house for sex? Mr. D’Amico, this is a police investigation. We need to know everything. The staff told me when I interviewed them. By partner, you mean…? Hey. Listen, I’m… I’m on your side. I’m just trying to figure out what was going on at the house. Now, you say you’re partners. Though you were, um, bringing back other men? For him? You were… having sex with them, too? With him there? Sometimes he wouldn’t join in? These other men, uh, did they consider themselves to be Versace’s partner, too? You see why I’m confused? What’s the difference? Okay. That-that’s, um… that’s a good length of time. Could you give us their names? These other men. Were they paid? Hmm. Were you paid? I’m sorry. I know you’re upset, but… this is new to me, I’m just trying to get everything clear. Don’t want to make presumptions. Did you see the man who shot Versace? Well, might it be one of these men who killed him?” — Paul Scrimshaw

Detective Lori Wieder

“Agent Evans has been looking for Cunanan for several months. In Fort Lauderdale, too. How many have gone out, Agent Evans?” — Lori Wieder

“We got an address on Andrew Cunanan.” — Lori Wieder

“Do you know this man? Do you know him?!” — Lori Wieder

“Why do you think he’s now in Miami? Do you think he’s more or less likely to be here compared to, say, Los Angeles or San Diego. We’re talking about a really small area. The most popular gay venues are Twist, Warsaw Ballroom, Salvation, Amnesia… The Beach on 12th street, and we’re here. If he comes here, pretty much he’ll have to walk right past us. We could visit these places in a day. I’m happy to take you around. Let’s get the flyers out, meet the bar owners, community leaders… so, you don’t want to canvass South Beach as well? Get the flyers out there. When will they be ready? Well, that’s certainly clear.” — Lori Wieder

FBI Agent Keith Evans

“Andrew Cunanan, 27 years old. Well, he’s made the Bureau’s Top Ten Most Wanted, which means right now, every FBI office in the country has agents looking for him. We intend to do our job on the assumption that he’s coming here. All right. Detective… you haven’t read the case files, but Cunanan won’t be a regular tourist. He’s a predator escort, which means he’s going to target closeted, older, wealthy homosexuals. Now, I’ve been told that bars in Fort Lauderdale serve those kinds of men. We only have ten right now.” — Keith Evans

FBI Agent Talarah Gruber

“He’s killed four men. His murder spree began in Minneapolis. Next murder was in the countryside by East Rush Lake. Third victim was in Chicago. The fourth man was in New Jersey. We don’t know where he is. We’re having more printed. The flyers aren’t a priority for us.” — Talarah Gruber

The prolific producer behind @AHSFX and @ACSFX will exit his longtime home at 20th Century Fox Television on July 1 in favor of a mega-deal at Netflix that is said to be for five years and worth $300 million https://t.co/RXx6KyfgEJ

“Silk. As you can see, I’ve made Row Designation six years now. Uh, sh-she’s improving. Thank you. Yeah. At my last review, uh, they mentioned there was an opening in Strategy. Sorry, what? I’m sor… Veilsdorf. It’s quiet. As-as you can see, I, uh… I’ve been with Interface for quite some time now. Excellent. Uh… I was hoping there would be room for me in Strategy. An opportunity to serve at a higher level. More relevant. When? I-If… if I could just have an interview… uh, I’m sorry. Uh, uh, ‘non-approved?’ The man had a… spot on his… with all due respect, Mr. Quayle… I have come to this building every day and done my job. I understand secrecy, security. Three decades I’ve given to this office. But honestly, sometimes it scares me. I don’t know what we do here. I certainly don’t understand why telling a stranger that he has a spot on his tie makes one shred of difference. Yeah.” — Howard Silk

“What’s the occasion. Uh, uh, no, I can’t. Um… plans. Congratulations. Hers too. Yes, it should have. You came all the way here just to tell me that? Yes, concussive trauma can take up to a year… I’m her family. I have a new book. ‘You, only. Only you… exist.'” — Howard Silk

“What is this?! He looks exactly like me. Other? Mr. Quayle, you brought me into that room. Please tell me what is going on. I… identical to ours. Wh… but… identical to ours? He-he… he looks exactly like me, but he is nothing like me. What-what kind of intelligence? Okay, okay, okay. Okay. Okay, who else knows about this? I-I don’t know– governments, world leaders? Wh-what about my wife? Hold… what, are you saying my wife is in danger? Wh-what does my wife have to do with any of this?” — Howard Silk

“Do you think… life is just a sum of our choices? You do something and I react. You do it often enough… my reaction changes. We’re changing, all the time. Those choices define who we are. It’s not? Know your problem? You’re too young.” — Howard Silk

“Marcel. Marcel was killed? I… I’m-I’m sorry to interrupt, but I… I don’t understand. Why do they want to hurt Emily? By threatening my wife? Wh-why not yours? No. Um… six weeks ago, she was crossing the street, and a… a car came out of nowhere. Kid driving, wasn’t paying attention. She’s in a coma. Yeah. Hold them back? Every night.” — Howard Silk

“Keep it. I-I haven’t worn it in years. Uh… the nurses. I say hello. No one else, really. Here, I-I want you to try this. It’s from the bakery downstairs. Please, indulge me. It’s a… I spent a summer in Maine when I was a kid. Yes, of course. I’m sorry. Right. We spent. Remember dad got the… the funnel cakes? Really? I-I don’t think so. There’s so many things I want to ask you about. Memories and… feelings that I’ve had my whole life that only belonged to me. And now it’s… us. We share… genetics. A childhood. So how did we get to be so different? What kind of music do you listen to? Favorite food? Taste buds must be the same. Chinese. It’s fascinating. I don’t know. Just, uh, life, I guess. Well… I mean, I’m not, I’m not making excuses. Yeah, some. Or right. Um… I, uh, I read to her. Books she likes. Um, you know, poetry, mostly. Whitman, Rilke, you know. Just Eric. Yeah. Tried to talk her out of the wedding? Yeah, the… wedding. 28 years ago, October. We eloped. When you know, you know. Our first date, when she, uh, left the table to wash up, I said to the waiter, ‘I’m gonna marry her.’ I just knew. I… I couldn’t get to sleep last night. I was… I was so excited. I… I was thinking, if there’s another me, that means there’s another her. But… it’s too early to tell. Were you, um… were you there… for her at the end? You have regrets.” — Howard Silk

“Oh, wait. Uh, can you pull over right here? I’ll be right back. Here. I always bring her flowers. Howard, wait. Um… the, uh… the nurse on duty tonight is named Talia. Cholesterol. Uh, that could be Eric. Her brother. He left a contract on the, on the table by the door. No. No, of course not. It’s… complicated. Their mother wants her back in England. What are…? To check on my wife. Just get on the plane, Eric. It’s okay, you can go. It’s safe. Thanks for the ride. I’ll tell you what I want. I-I want the promotion that I should have had three days ago. And real access. Real operational knowledge. I think, after 30 years, I deserve that. Here’s what I do understand. You need me now. So, I guess you got to– I don’t know– figure it out.” — Howard Silk

“Yes. Yes. Outg… I’m sorry. Uh, we, uh… we-we translate these conversations into what, exactly? I don’t really know anything about the nature of our work. So, what are we doing? That’s right. Analysis. I’m sorry. Wh… uh… why exactly are we in a concert hall? No. She’s… the other her. It’s a… it’s a Thompson Tee. Emily bought ’em for me. You know, the… they have the… the pit guards for… sweating. Okay, wh-what… wh-what exactly is it that you do for a living? I just… I… I don’t understand how we can be… I mean, is your world really that different from mine? Okay, well, like, 30 years ago, when the… when this door, portal was discovered… she plays beautifully.” — Howard Silk

Howard Silk (Prime)

“Hi, Howard. Well, this is disappointing. Does he really not know what’s going on? What level are you? Believe me, I’m not. But I have to be back in about 12 minutes, so let’s discuss terms. First, no one outside this room knows about this arrangement. Because if you don’t, people start dying. A kill order came out from my side, targeting people on your side. Yeah, I get it. You’re skeptical. You’ve made that very clear. Your Fourth Floor may be compromised. All due respect, your intelligence is kind of a shit show right now. Okay, well, this was fun. Got to go. Not till I know where you stand. I’ll be back tomorrow. Longer visa. ‘Courier duty.’ You have until then to make up your mind. And we’re gonna need this one, so you might want to… I don’t know, read him in. Wow. Interface. Perfect.” — Howard Prime

“Bringing the embassy pouch. 12-hour visa. It’s better on my side. Not here. Don’t know much about her. Yeah, we didn’t know that until the other night. She skipped out on a crash meeting by posing as a hooker. Handle is Baldwin. She’s a contract assassin. Killed some good men on my side. That your dead man’s dossier? I don’t know. He was Strategy? Hmm. There’s been some infighting in leadership on my side. You’ve been aware of it? There’s a faction, may be trying a takeover. Unclear who, exactly. They’re hard-line, ideological, don’t care much for diplomacy. It’s been bad on my side for months now. Contentious, defection talk. People have been disappearing. It’s not random. I don’t know what it is, but it’s not random. No. Right now, nobody knows about this arrangement. We need to keep it that way. My guess is to send me a message. My Emily’s dead. Cancer. Officially, I’m, 4C, Diplomacy. But I’m Section Two. I’ve spent my career building our clandestine operational network on your side. What about, uh, the other Emily? Where is she, at work? So she’s in a hospital? All right. I need to know everything. If Baldwin is operating on this side, your wife may be her next target. Hold ’em back. Look, the only advantage we have right now is she doesn’t know I’m here. She’s methodical, she studies routine. One break in that, and she might call it off. When do you visit? All right, I’ll go in your place tonight. Howard, why do you think I brought you in on this? For your great tactical skill? Your in=depth knowledge of this whole fucking thing? I need to pretend to be you, take Baldwin out myself. Yeah, you’re right. I don’t. He does. Excellent.” — Howard Prime

“Like looking in a mirror? This was my favorite tie. I lost it years ago. Okay, let’s talk routine. You go in, straight up to her room. Anyone you interact with regularly? No, thanks. Yeah, I was there. Yeah. I really can’t. High cholesterol. Yeah. You don’t have it? Okay. So? You’d drive yourself crazy trying to chart it out. Seriously, people have. I don’t care for it. I don’t know. American, I guess. Tell you what I’ve been wondering. How come you never got out of Interface? All these years, you never moved up. What held you back? Seriously? Life? That’s your excuse? You have regrets? See, this is what’s so fucked up. Genetics, childhood– doesn’t matter. We’re helpless to our experience. Difference between you and me could be a single moment, one little thing gone wrong. Okay, routine. At the hospital. Stay in touch with any of her family? That piece of shit. Eric always had it out for us. Wedding? 28 years? Wasn’t that right after we’d met? She gonna make it? Uh, I, um… I wasn’t perfect.” — Howard Prime

“Fuck off. Oh, wait. What is it? Give him one, too. Yeah, take a right off the elevator, room 322. Flowers. Give me a gun. All right. Keep your people out of sight, huh? Keep him out of sight, too, huh? Pull around back. Is it her? Okay. What do I need to know? What is this? You didn’t sign it. You weren’t going to.” — Howard Prime

“Listen. This is about me, isn’t it? You tried to warn her away from me from the beginning. She was in love. She was happy. And you tried to ruin the one good thing she had. No. I said no. Let me tell you something, Eric. This is something very few people will tell you. You’re a real fucking asshole. Guys like you confuse words with action. I don’t. So I will be very, very clear. If you or anyone in your family try to take her away from me, we will be done. There will be nothing left to say. And believe me, Eric, the last thing you want is me with nothing left to say. Shh. Listen to me. Someone is coming up here to kill her. Shut the fuck up. Stay in this room, stay away from the door. I’m trying to save her life here. Do you understand me? Eric. Do you understand me? Not a fucking sound. Where is she? Down! You okay? Where you going? She’ll try again. I’ll get another visa. Might take 24 hours, maybe longer. Meantime, you keep watch. We’re gonna need that one again.” — Howard Prime

“Scotch. You know that conversation is a waste of your time and mine. You got to be fucking kidding me. Two Bulgarians acting like they didn’t just come in together. They’re with you. Jesus, Emily. You have no idea. That’s not what this is. Your guys here are gonna take me, make up whatever story they want, and you’ll never see me again. I can’t. So you know… I’m unarmed.” — Howard Prime

“Hey, buddy. That his blood or yours? Good boy. Long story. What do you got? Name? That’s it? I asked him for network, bio, possible crash pads on their side. Tell this kid to stop fucking around, all right? Soon. I need you to keep him a while longer. Okay. Keep him away from the neighbor’s dog, huh?” — Howard Prime

“Doctor say anything new? You need anything? Had an unpleasant encounter with three Bulgarians last night when I get in. What’s my exposure? If I’m walking into that building today, like to know if someone’s gonna lock me up for killing three contractors.” — Howard Prime

“44C12. You took care of his wife? What about him? I want him with us. I have Baldwin’s real name. Which I’m guessing is more than you have. So let me make this clear. Sometimes I’m gonna ask for stuff. You want the name? I want other Howard with us. That’s the deal.” — Howard Prime

“Heard you got a promotion. So, 30 years toiling in obscurity, and now you’re suddenly moving up in the world. There’s a violinist named Nadia Fierro. Italian-born, immigrated here in ’94. She’s expected here for a rehearsal. You heard of her? On my side, Nadia is not a violinist. She’s an assassin, goes by the name Baldwin. You got to be kidding me. Can’t believe we even own the same shirt. You always wear that shiny white undershirt? Anyway, based on the math, we know these two women share a past. Nine, ten years before the timeline diverged. Same childhood, traumas, behavioral whatever. Right now, Baldwin is hurt. She’s in a city that’s not her own. She has to act impulsively. When she acts impulsively, she acts like herself. So the more we get on Nadia, the more we learn about where Baldwin might go. I do a lot of things, including retrieval. Come over here, quick trips, find defectors and bring ’em home. This is really not a conversation you want to have. Not discovered. That’s… imprecise. ‘Discovered’ implies there were always these two realities. There was one reality, and then… it duplicated. Nobody knows how. Well, maybe somebody knows, but they’re not telling. Look, think of it like this. Up until 30 years ago, there was just this. Then this happened. Then this. Now we’re like… two people, two completely different paths. You have her home address? All right. You want to go check it out, take other me with you? The bar, see what I can get out of her. Got a mickey? Tranquilizer? Ketamine? Jesus, you fucking guys are Housekeeping, right? Jennifer Wilcox. Okay. They’re not for you.” — Howard Prime

“Excuse me. Hi. Uh, I need the, uh… do you speak English at all? No. Uh… okay, sorry. I need a-a… I need to make a call. Do you have a landline I could, uh… I’m sorry. I don’t… I don’t speak any German. Yeah. Thank you. Thank you. Hi, Jen. Hi, it’s your… yeah, of course. You know who it is. Jenny, please don’t hang up. I, uh… I’m-I’m here. I’m-I’m… I’m in Berlin. And, uh, I’m actually right across the street. Please don’t hang up. Jenny, sweetie, I-I came all… may I have a… scotch. Thank you for… had my U.S. cell phone with me here, and… useless. Yeah. She, uh, she plays in the orchestra rehearsing across the street. Jennifer Wilcox. Do you know her? I don’t know what I’m doing here. I… cashed in all my airline miles. I… thought I’d surprise her. Sorry, I’m… confessions of a stage dad. Maybe you’re familiar with the type. Well… on behalf of all the screwup fathers everywhere, I apologize humbly. I think the tipping point came in her fifth grade year. I was driving her hard, preparing for this recital. It as just elementary school, you know, but I was really pushing. I thought so. I mean, if you have a gift for something, you… you enjoy it, right? Anyway. You don’t have kids, I take it. Was? How old were you?” — Howard Prime

Peter Quayle

“Oh, hello. They brought this in. I’d share it, but… oh, what’s that, you’re résumé? No, we have it on the, um, on the computer. Yeah. Howard… Howard Silk. Been in the Office 29 years. Worked your way up to Interface. Oh, sorry to hear about your wife, by the way. How-how is she? Yeah? Her coworkers speak very highly of her. I’ve never met her myself, but, uh… sorry, where do you live? Where do you live? Drives me mad. I went out with a girl from there once– not very long. I mean, you have to get into a cab to find a decent meal, don’t you? Mm. No, yeah, one of our best. No one has ever had a complaint about you. I’m sorry, Howard, but that post has been filled. Howard, you’re an Interface man. Everyone likes you there. There’s no need to upset the cart, is there? You know, Oversight were looking at your tapes from this morning. Apparently, there was a non-approved exchange. Hmm. Man of your experience, you’d think you’d know better. Howard, it’s been 30 years. If it was gonna happen, it would have happened.” — Peter Quayle

“I told you, he doesn’t know a damn thing. He’s nobody. Go and get him. Sorry. It’s his job to be disliked. Listen, Howard, we have a bit of a situation. Um, something we need to bring you in on. Someone’s walked in from the other side. It might be a defection. don’t really know what else to call it. Well, typically we don’t entertain this sort of business. Strangers come over, we turn them away. But this one is… different. He… he’s valuable. And… well, he’s only willing to speak to you. Just, whatever you do… don’t panic. Why did you come over, Howard? He’s an Interface man. There’s no intelligence to confirm any of this. Wait. Who’s on the list.” — Peter Quayle

“Oh, shut up, Howard. J-just let me think for a second, okay? He is you, Howard. Really, do you have any idea how lucky you are? No one– no one— gets to meet their other. Everyone wonders about it, but… 30 years ago, during the Cold War, there was an experiment, an accident, in this building. Eastern scientists… something went wrong. They opened up a passage directly beneath us. When you go through this door, you come out the other side, you’re in another world, identical to ours. Same events, same experiences. So, where this building stands, where we are now, this is called the Crossing. So, when this door opened, out paths began to branch off. More and more, over time. This… this is not my job to tell you this, Howard. You shouldn’t even… what you need to know is we keep a lid on it. We trade information, we gather intelligence from the other side. That’s not important. To you. Out… outside the building? What do you think? Some. That’s… it’s murky. I don’t… look, Howard, you know this now. But you do not know this. Is he gone? From the kill list? Okay, we’ll put a watch on her, as a precaution. No, no, she’s fine. Howard, you know what? Go back to work. We’ll handle it. She’ll be safe. We’ll be in touch. What did he say?” — Peter Quayle

“One of ours was killed last night. You know who carried this out? Her? Howard, you wouldn’t happen to have any cream, would you? so why did they target this man? He was just promoted. Look, I’m sorry. We’ve done our part, all right? We… we keep doing everything you’ve asked for. It’s time for you to be a little more forthright. What is this about? What do they want? So what is this? They’re just picking off our people at random? Ah, enough. We have to tell the Fourth Floor. What’s your designation? So Section Two is real. Fine. We’ll arrange things on our end. We’ll be ready in… what-what do you think? You two stay here until then. Get acquainted. If he makes one left instead of a right, kill him.” — Peter Quayle

“Uh, we got two men on every exit. He told you everything? There’s a visitor. No. Male. 40s, well dressed. Who the fuck is Eric? Howard, sign the fucking thing, get him out of there. Just sign the fucking thing. Oh, for fuck sake. Go. She got away. So what happens next? And? I’ll talk to him. You know, I remember when I first found out. It doesn’t normally happen like this, you know. There’s-there’s people you have to talk to. There’s, like, doctors and psychiatrists. You’re read in. There’s this whole process. And you, you… you… do you have any idea the world that’s just opened to you, Howard? So we can count on you to help us? Howard. H… Howard. Howard! What do you want? Howard, that-that’s not even possible. Okay, Howard, look, you don’t understand. Uh, it doesn’t work like that.” — Peter Quayle

“Yeah, he’ll cooperate. He’s been promoted to Analysis. Sorry, you can’t just walk over here and dictate the terms of this collaboration, all right? Silk. Our mutual friend has requested your presence. Now, let’s get one thing straight. You’re only part of this arrangement because of him. You will not interfere, and you will share nothing with him about the nature of our work. Exactly. You’re gonna find the woman who tried to kill your wife.” — Peter Quayle

Aldrich

“You know who I am? Do you know why we might want to speak? This is a bad idea. Enough. He’s wasting our time. Why should we listen to a word you have to say? Bullshit. If there is a problem, we go to the Fourth Floor. He’s lying.” — Aldrich

“Yes. He gave me a name. Emily Silk, his wife. She’s in the hospital. Albert Schweitzer. We have to be very cautious about it.” — Aldrich

“Double tap entry. No witnesses. We heard a few things. And now the fight spills over. We have guards. You don’t make these decisions. We start immediately.” — Aldrich

“Which one are you? It’s time. Radio. Our guard is never down. What did you talk about, the two of you, in your apartment? Get rid of him.” — Aldrich

“She’s in a different hospital, unlisted and under guard. Put them together. No one in, no one out. Yes. And you– where are you going? Give it to him. Don’t let him leave your sight.” — Aldrich

Emily Burton Silk

“What on earth have you been doing over there? Something odd’s been happening lately. I checked your hours; you’ve been breathing a lot of the other side’s air, and I want to know why. Yes, do remind me that your clearance is higher than mine. That’s always such a turn-on. What? Midnight Station called me two hours ago. There’s a rendition order in your name. I don’t mean to tell you your job, Howard, but if you thought I came here to hold your hand, you’ve forgotten what I do. Why is there a rendition in your name? Let’s be honest with each other for once. Tell me why you’ve been crossing over, and I’ll call off the retrieval team. Well, then, I’m sorry I can’t help you. Thank you for coming. Please leave quietly with the nice gentleman.” — Emily Burton

“Why is Personnel in this meeting? Bob, is this a debrief or an inquisition? I got a rendition call. 2330. A message, that an agent had been recalled and I should bring him in. Why do I feel this is news to you? A hardship? Can you not see I’m trying to have a conversation with him? I’m sorry. None of this makes any sense. Fuck off.” — Emily Burton

“Confiscated items. You know, they didn’t even look at my phone log. They just didn’t want to know. Anything about that contractor who slipped across? Em… no inquiry into who she’s working for? How she got her papers? Fuck it.” — Emily Burton

Clare

“Jesus. They were asking how you are. A crosser’s come over. His name’s Howard Silk. He’s an operative from home; been a problem for a while. And he has your name. Standard course of action is… this is her address. You need to kill her. Before they use her to get to you. Won’t be easy. Nadia… you share a past with her.” — Clare

Cyrus

“Howard. We’re celebrating. Drinks? Eh, Marcel, the bastard. He got himself that Strategy job. Why don’t you come? One of ours was killed last night.” — Cyrus

“10:00. Incoming female. I think it’s her. Coming up the elevator now. She’s on the second floor! Second floor! Outside! Fast!” — Cyrus

Eric

“I’ve been trying you all week. Should have occurred to me I could’ve just found you here. My mother’s always been difficult. It’s no secret. But I’m the one who still has to live with her. She wants what she wants. There’s been no improvement. I know, Howard. I’ve spoken to them, too. But we have to be realistic. It’s been six weeks. They’re moving her to long-term care. All our mother wants is to have her at home… if the time comes. Have a look at this. Sign it when you’ve had a moment. She wants her surrounded by family. I tell you what, I’ll pop it over here. Please think it over.”

“Well, I’m leaving for the airport. So what do I tell her? It’s time to let go, Howard. Let her be with family. Stop it. I’m gonna ask you one more time, and then I’m gonna leave ’cause this is childish. She will sue you until you submit. You understand that? Sign it. Let’s be done with this. I’m sorry? Howard, what in God’s name…? Whoa. What? Yeah. Yes. What the hell is happening?”

Andrei

“Why do you punish yourself? Spoken like a man about to lose. There’s your problem. You’re too nice. And this always ends the same. Sometimes I get the feeling you let me win these games.” — Andrei

“Very quiet this morning. No. Who we are is not about choice. you are who you are. I am what I am. And the game only ends one way.” — Andrei

Marcel

“The girls are saying you’ve got a meeting upstairs. You should stop charming those women. Is it the Strategy job? Howard. Mon frère. Honestly? I do not think you should waste your time. No. Just let it go. Pretend it never happened.” — Marcel

Baldwin

“Marcel.” — Baldwin

“I’m fine. I know what it means. It will be for me. Don’t call me that. We share nothing. I can do it.” — Baldwin

Nadia

“She’s your daughter? No. Did she enjoy playing? No. My father was not a good man. He’s dead. Ten. Failed artist. Nothing but drink and anger. Left me his debt. House in Kopenick. A small, shitty existence. I never sold it. Maybe someday it will burn down.” — Nadia

“Well, after my father died, I, um, I did not have… things. I was good at it. I was lost. I went from foster home to foster home. And I tried on lives like dresses. Every year there was a new home. New family. New Christmas present addressed to a new name. You become who they want you to be. And you lose yourself. Well… we cannot escape who we are.” — Nadia

Ian Shaw

“Where did you get that? It’s not about you. It’s Howard. Whatever bullshit he’s into. Let it go. Baldwin. Whatever the operation is, someone’s made it clear they don’t want it looked into. So let’s leave it alone. Fuck it.” — Ian Shaw

Agent

“Shit… how the hell is he gone — police. Fuck off. Fuck off. How did Baldwin get away? …the man who was here. Huh? How did he get away? Get her in the car. She saw his face… …we’ll get something. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Yeah, it’s me. We have a problem. Something went wrong with the deal. Yeah. Baldwin’s gone. We moved in as fast as we could. The whole place is fucking crawling with police. Wait. Listen, listen, he’s not going anywhere. ‘Cause I’ve got his visas right here, yeah. He didn’t get them. He can’t get to their world. No, there was a hooker in the bathroom. She might have seen something. Yeah. Bring her to you.” — Agent

Agent #2

“He’s gone. Deal must have went wrong… look… everything he came for. Visas, credentials… currency from the Other Side. He must have left in a hurry. She’s gone, forget it.” — Agent #2

Olivia Lake

Children’s book author and illustrator Olivia Lake sustains multiple blunt-force traumas to her cranium resulting in her murder. Her fiancé Sam Neill is detained as the primary suspect and pleads guilty to aggravated manslaughter.

“I thought maybe I should put both of us out of your misery. Oh, but first, I’d like to pretend that I’m not old enough to be anyone’s surrogate mom. However, more sincerely, I’d like to say you’re kind of like the son I never knew I really wanted. But first, just look at this beautiful, beautiful house, and, um… that you have offered us for this event. I mean, come on. And the seed money that you gave us to start Mosaic or we wouldn’t even be here to start with. Michael is… you are one of the most sensitive people I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. And that sensitivity has… …turned into being one of the most acute collectors of art, which you could all see if you were lucky enough to have a tour of the Red Room. Hey, why don’t we auction off tours of the Red Room today for, like, $1,000? Okay, $1,000, anybody? Oh, God, thank you. Yay! Thank you. Because we really do need those funds to keep Mosaic going, and… you know, it only takes one person to change a life.” — Olivia Lake

“Hunky bartender– your team or mine? Reconnaissance, s’il vous plaît. So, Red Room? Really? Great. Thank you… very much. Really appreciate that. Thank you. Oh, who could possibly do a thing like that? He could. I finally got a pen that writes on rubber. Pour me something tall and muscular. A lesser nuanced host might have said ‘stiff.’ Thank you. Oh, I know. I’m a little old for a children’s author. Ah, so you thought, ‘there’s all these rich people blowing in and out of here… …so I’ll come out, bank some cash. And I’m from Minnesota… …so I’ll come out here and teach skiing.’ Oh, and then you blew out your knee? Oh. Oh. Oh, I bet that tree just jumped right out in the middle of the road. You can never trust nature. Why is that guy looking at you like he’s the boss of you? Oh, all right, then. Better go do your thing. Maybe if I see you next time, I’ll show you yours if you show me mine. Uh…” — Olivia Lake

“Well, it’s good to see all the homework you did. It’s nice to know what all this is worth. And, uh– and the offer, what was that word that you used? Yes, the 10% vig. But, you know. Uh, no. You know when you’ll know when I’m moving on? When you’re standing at my gravesite with whatever’s left of my mourners, and then you can negotiate with my dogs or whoever I’ve left this place to. But, you know, since I’m not dead, why don’t we take this precious moment for me to offer you a piece of advice? Why don’t you stop dragging dead rats through the cat flap to dump at your daddy’s feet? Okay? Okay? Okay.” — Olivia Lake

“Yeah. I mean, other than the obvious. Kirby, Frank Miller, Steranko, Eisner. Well, yeah. It’s a long fucking way to fall. If you’re up there, you better make sure you’ve got something. Oh, everybody’s got an imagination. Everybody’s got influences. My question to you is what’s your own special take on it? Well, um– well, this place is a mess. Glade we came up here. We can clean it up. Well, you seem strong. Are you handy? Oof, is it the mirror or did someone steal my ass? Mm. Uh…” — Olivia Lake

“Knock, knock. Oh, I guess it’s hot in here. Here, honey. Well, it’ll be our first rag. Our first rag together. Okay? Oh! Hey, that looks nice. Oh, for me to– pfft. Why don’t we drown that thought in a margarita? So, he said, ‘if you could cook, we could fire the chef.’ And I said, ‘Ernie, if you could fuck, we could fire the chauffeur.'” — Olivia Lake

“His father was some kind of Ponzi guy or something. I think Eric feels like he has some big karma to unravel. There he is. Right there. What do you think? Oh, no, you’re not getting any closer, not today. He’s coming. Okay, he’s coming down. Get out– no, wait. What am I doing here? I mean, on the premises? Dennis Klein turned out to be a hell of a wingman. No, no signals.” — Olivia Lake

“Hey, Eric. Hi. Good. Well, I saw you up there, and… well, you were just right about everything, so I wanted to tell you. Yeah. I mean, I just had a hunch and, you know, so I just said to him up top, like, what is up with you? Overruled. Oh, cancer. Yeah. You’d think he could come up with something more creative. Yeah, or pica. Pica– it’s the one where people eat the nonfood things like chalk or drywall or ladders. Yeah. Or the one where you get old really fast. Well, you know, you saved me a lot of money and, um, I feel like I owe you, so let’s say I buy you a drink or something. Okay. How about now? ‘Cause I’m freezing.” — Olivia Lake

“I don’t know, it sounds exciting. I mean, a new company every few years, a fresh start, learning new stuff. You know, it sounds… like imprinting, like a duckling. I find that hard to believe. That just doesn’t seem like you. I mean, it’s my head, anyway. Well, go. Hunt those heads. I could eat.” — Olivia Lake

“So, Eric says, ‘he couldn’t come up with something more original than that?’ Than we start riffing on all these weird diseases. I guess you had to be there. Anyway, so, he’s here because he’s gonna be carving up some company, but, you know, he’s kind of– he’s had a change of heart and he wants to change his life. So, I mean, that’s what he’s doing here today. He was gonna go to Salt Lake City and meet this headhunter, and– but he cancelled it so that he could have dinner with me. Yeah. And– look, I gotta go. Otherwise he’s gonna think that I have been in the bathroom the whole time.” — Olivia Lake

“A mirror? Oh, well there’s a reason you only hang a painting facing out. Who wants to see all the wires and tacks and framing? Oh! I don’t believe you. No, you. You. You’re an actor. Well, that’s artistry. Wrong. You told me yourself he was a con… con artist. Uh… me. Eric. Tell me about your play. What was it called? I love that. Because I think kids’ art is 100% a declaration of who they are. I think it’s– it’s maybe the last time we tell the truth.” — Olivia Lake

“‘She takes those kids up the trail, like… three times a day and tells her story over and over. It’s pathetic.’ Because it was like that for a while. Even I thought it was pathetic. You know, when I built these, I… I felt like that North Korean guy. Like I was building a monument to my own ego. I mean… just look. It was like a– like a star just fell down from the heavens and I was holding a basket. I wrote it all down in 45 seconds and drew it in two weeks, and… that was 26 years ago. The land or the life? Well, the land has a crew. I’ve had to let a lot of them go. I’ve got a boarder down in the barn. He helps if I can get him to do anything. But, yeah, it’s hard. What are we if not our life? I’m trying to decide if I should invite you in. Eric… you gotta let me do this one. The night lasts longer if we don’t. That’s what I want. I would like that.” — Olivia Lake

“He says he wants to see through all this, but he doesn’t. You know that, right? People don’t. They say they do, but then they don’t. When they see what’s really there… he won’t– he won’t want to see it or… ha, ha, fucking ha, he does. And then he will. And then what happens then? What happens when he actually sees in?” — Olivia Lake

“In the kitchen. Oh, you look like you just took a shit on my carpet and wiped your ass on the drapes. What gives? Really? You came all the way over here for something you cannot tell me? Fuck off. Wow. That is awesome that Alyssa didn’t tell me. I didn’t say life was fair. He’s on his way over here. You gotta go. However much I wish you could, beat it.” — Olivia Lake

“The point is perspective. It’s an entirely different story depending on how you look at it.” — Olivia Lake

“Well… I read once a long time ago that the difference between living a life of fulfillment and a life of compromise can be one person. It can be a total stranger, and they just need to… people to see that the way you see things, the way your vision of life… has value, that it’s meaningful. I never had that, but I feel like, that if I could be that or if someone at Mosaic could be that for one kid somewhere at some time, that my life, my crazy, dopey, lucky, awful life… that it would just be worthwhile, you know?” — Olivia Lake

Nate Henry

“Just gonna say a few things that I know and a few things I’d like to find out about. Anyhow… I got out of a meeting with forensics earlier today. I made a copy of the report for you to read later. Maybe it’ll jog your memory or something. The short of it? Olivia, she got hit on the jaw on the left side of her face by someone who was right-handed. I don’t know if you know this, but Eric Neill is left-handed. Your right hand was red, bloody, and swollen. But when Tia picked you up at midnight… 11:57 to be exact– and then in the morning when Frank got you in town. And also Facebook. You deleted photos of you showing you wearing a T-shirt that was found buried with the body. You asked Tia– my son’s in her class, by the way– to lie about what happened that night. And you asked Frank to do the same thing Twice. Back then and now. And finally… we had a guy following you today, man. As soon as you found out the information on what was found with the body, you left the hotel. You went to Marcellus county. That’s where the gardener, Horacio, lives. He’s the guy you sold the truck to in a hurry when– after the murder. After Horacio, you went to a gas station on the I-80. We’ve got some guys going to the gas station now. They’ve been instructed to search the dumpsters. You wanna tell me what they’re gonna find or… should I wait for them to tell me? Joel! Now I go back to the office and I write up a warrant. I bring it to the prosecutor first thing, and when he signs it, and I do believe he will sign it… then I go and I talk to Judge Warren in chambers and I tell her everything I just told you. And then she approves it, and then I come back to this hotel room… and you and Laura are gonna have to decide how to play this.” — Nate Henry

Joel Hurley

“What happens now?” — Joel Hurley

“Well, I’m sorry. I’ve been instructed to pour doubles this afternoon. You got it. Here you are. I’m sorry, I know you probably get this a lot, but– you might be the reason I became an artist. …then I moved to New York to get a publisher and an agent, and then blew through half my savings in the first couple of weeks. And– and a buddy told me about Summit. Yeah. Bank it out. Oh, yeah. A little skiing, a little hunting, some tennis. Shoulder. Rotator cuff, actually. In a car wreck, of all things. Oh, you know, I think it was a little more of an insurance scam. I think it’s because he is the boss of me. Okay, that sounds great.” — Joel Hurley

“Um, excuse me. Sorry, um, I saw online that you guys do silk screen stuff? Oh, well, honestly, I just wanted to make a shirt of this. Yeah, I did. Yeah. These are just all the ones that I’ve done since, uh– since I got here. I’m sorry, we’ll do it in a different place. Seriously? Moebius. ’70s. ‘Métal hurlant!’Mm. Nah. Eh. ‘Airtight Garage?’ ‘Arzach.’ Yeah, I guess, but, I mean, ‘Arzach’ is all drawing. Like, I love that it’s the purest sequential storytelling. No words. Do you want another round? Let’s go, two more. Yeah, maybe it’s– maybe I’m just not a words person. Why?” — Joel Hurley

“Man, for me? What are my influences? So you know who they are? Wow, uh… no, I’ve always, you know, believed in ‘standing on the shoulders of giants’ sort of things. Yeah. I’d like to think so, yeah. So, this is where it all happens?” — Joel Hurley

“It’s an apartment. It just so happens to be in a barn. Yeah, and it’s free. Well, I mean, I’m gonna have to work in exchange for the rent, but I’ll have complete access to her studio, which I get to use– Olivia Lake’s studio. And she’s going to look at my stuff. She’s gonna show it to her agent.” — Joel Hurley

“What do you mean? Yeah. Why, is that weird? Laura, this is– this is huge for me. Yeah. Laura… what are you so worried about? How?” — Joel Hurley

“Come on in. Yeah. This was starting to get a little stinky, so. Okay. Yeah, I just wanted to make it a little longer. Some sketching space, and, plus, you know, room for two. Don’t mind if I do. Oh. Oh, she’s early. Hang on. Uh, hey! Hey, there! Hey. Right? I knew you’d like it. Come on. Oh, wait! Laura, Laura. I wanna introduce you to someone. Laura, this is Olivia. What?” — Joel Hurley

“So, her one big book– well, I’m sure you read it. Everyone’s read it. No? ‘Whose Woods These Are.’ You read it one way, it’s the story of this poor hunter who tries to protect his family from this evil monster bear. You turn it over and read it the other way, it’s the story of this poor bear who tries to rescue his mom from the trap of this evil monster hunter. Not a bad idea, right. Pick a direction. Well, it’s a circle. They both end up at the same place.” — Joel Hurley

Michael O’Connor

“Um, hello? Yeah. Uh, excuse me. Hi, everyone. I’m Michael O’Connor. Hello, everyone. How’s it going? Okay, so this is part of the annual fundraiser where the host gives an intro talk. And this would be the part of the talk where I should say something punchy or comical to break up the tension. So imagine that this is that. I grew up with Olivia Lake. Not Just like you all did reading her book, But I– I literally grew up up the hill from her. I used to ride my Big Wheel in her parking lot, which is right down there. She’s like a surrogate mom to me. So, what can I say about Olivia Lake that she hasn’t already told me to say? Wait, shoot. ‘…about Olivia Lake that she hasn’t already told me to say?’ What did I write? But what– oh, right, okay, so, but why are we really here? Because this is the time of year that we all have a chance to make a real difference, a difference in the lives of children not just in the Summit area, but all throughout the grater Salt Lake area as well. So, Olivia Lake began her career as a graphic designer before illustrating several children’s books for other authors when she awoke from a dream with the idea for ‘Whose Woods These Are.’ Hi. Uh, yeah, yeah, okay. That sounds good.” — Michael O’Connor

“High performance ch– what kind of rare metals? Why are you showing this to me? He doesn’t need to know about this. Mm-hmm. Uh, the vig? So– so, you’re not interested? You know, I was thinking, you know my dad, you know how much he loves this whole area how much he loves his views, his pristine views. But if there ever comes a time, if ever, whenever you think, ‘hey, you know, it’s time to move on from here…’ Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Well… yeah.” — Michael O’Connor

“Is the beryllium real? So… I’m not sure– so, he… he sent his own father to jail?” — Michael O’Connor

“My father just really loved the pristine views and I wanted to do something nice for him.” — Michael O’Connor

Tom Davis

“Chelation ion chromatography. It detects trace elements of rare metals. All kinds. You remember when we had those guys out here a couple of weeks ago? I told you I’d let you know if they found anything. Do you want me to fill you in before your dad comes? Well… so you can fill him in.” — Tom Davis

“Very. So… so guys came to us a couple years back– about a year ago, actually. Down in Redding, a guy named Casey Delacroix and his partner Eric Neill. They were using pseudonyms. I never met them, our guys did. It was just an uninspired attempt at a silver scam. But I had Darenzo dig a little deeper into Delacroix and Neill. Turns out he found a case 10 years back or so involving a girl. 24 years old. Eloise Brand. A trust fund kid, a ton of dough, and she fell in love with Neill. Well, it turns out it took Neill nine and a half months to make that happen. He really worked her. They were engaged. And Neill doesn’t deny the relationship. He says he got cold feet. But according to Darenzo, the girl’s family came down on him like a hammer. But the charges were dropped in some kind of bargain that landed Neill’s father in prison. In exchange for his own freedom, yeah. So, we have a guy in Turks, John Clifford. He owes us a little. He’s gonna reach out to Neill later in the week. All right.” — Tom Davis

“Stay the course. Maybe. There’s a 9:15 out of Salt Lake, connects in Dallas, and then straight on to Marseille. Give my best to Thelma. No, I don’t want to risk anything. We’ll give him some space. Don’t call him again unless he calls you first. Your end is what it all always was. He converts, you get whole. Either way, your debt’s clear. Thanks for coming in on this.” — Tom Davis

Laura Hurley

“I– I still don’t understand. She’s gonna, like, show your stuff to people? Be like a mentor? And in exchange, all she wants is help around the property? She makes me nervous. I don’t trust her. Good luck.” — Laura Hurley

“Hi! Wow, this place is beautiful. Hi.” — Laura Hurley

Frank Scott

“Yeah, we do. We do the emulsion, do the press, whole thing. We got a bunch of T-shirts if that’s what you’re looking for. You drew these? You drew these yourself? They’re insane. I mean, they’re insane. That’s– okay, okay, okay, okay. So– let’s– let’s ask some questions here. Are you Kirby or are you Moebius? I’m dead serious. Yeah, that’s good. Good. Are you ’70s or are you ’80s? ‘Métal hurlant!’Yeah, nice! Oh. So, you’re not into the whole, uh… ‘Incal’ stuff with Jodorowsky? Nah. Eh. Well, that’s appropriate. That’s appropriate. Okay, so within the ‘Métal hurlant‘ era, are you ‘Arzach’ or are you… ‘Airtight Garage?’ Okay, but you got to admit ‘Le Garage Hermétique,’ that was insane. Uh, yeah. Yeah, okay, but that’s fixable. You just gotta meet somebody that, you know– somebody that maybe is a words person, you know? That’s easy.” — Frank Scott

“So, what, you gonna sleep in the hay? Or are you gonna eat the hay and sleep in the horseshit? Oh, I see. Well, I’m not arguing against it. I’m just saying that here you have a bed, you don’t have to eat, that’s all. Look at your stuff or look at your junk?” — Frank Scott

“Really? Is that what Eric thinks? What time does he think it is? Or should I just look at a clock? You mean that dot among all those other dots? I’ll let you know when he gets a little closer. Calm down. I will be very subtle. Uh, how about you were looking for him and you wanted to talk to him to thank him? No, because everything he said about Dennis Klein turned out to be true. Believe it or not, sometimes the best way to sound like you’re telling the truth is to actually tell the truth. I will give you a very subtle signal. It will be very discreet, I promissse.” — JC SChiffer

“Hi! You home? I can’t tell you. Okay, I can tell you. Eric spent two days last week in Mosaic. In the gallery. Alyssa told me this. It’s a secret. He was apparently grilling her all about the business schmegegge, which is what those VC guys call it when they’re not out headhunting. She thinks he wants to pitch you on the idea to take Mosaic and build it out to a whole bunch of offices in a whole bunch of cities. You have to swear I didn’t say any of this to you. Oh. So she gets kudos for keeping this a secret? I’ll just be squatting under the table. Shh.” — JC SChiffer

Eric Neill

“No, I– yeah. So, um, you got my name from…? So… yeah. But the owner won’t sell? Downsizing. So, what do you want me to do? And why do you think I’m particularly– what’s my end? She must really love this place. I get half up front. Who handles my expenses?” — Eric Neill

“Um, excuse me. I looked over and I’m like, ‘that’s the face from the book I worshipped.’ And I’m really sorry, but I heard what your friend was saying. May I? I won’t stay long. I’ve got a 2:00. Eric Neill. Hi. Yeah, of course you are. Um, hmm. My guess is if you Google him… he’s a geologist? Right, so you’ll follow a few links and they’ll take you to a university website, and there he’ll be. But let me guess– does he have a sick relative, an ex-wife, or…? Perfect. So you’ll dig a little deeper and you’ll see something about her car accident or– anything– spina bifida, some rare blood disease. ‘Damn,’ you’ll say, ‘the poor guy is telling the truth.’ So then you’ll Google– what was the company he told you about? Right. And you’ll see ginormous profits to Ogden Ore for recommissioned silver mines. But you get a call. He’s having second thoughts. He doesn’t want to screw his bosses at the school, but in your brain, a tiny voice will be whispering, ‘Ogden Ore made–‘ whatever figure he gave you. ‘Which buys a lot of brushes,’ you’ll be telling yourself. And so you’ll say, ‘the school will be fine. They just made–‘ whatever he said they made– ‘on their own consulting fees.’ And that’s when he knows your hooked. He lowers them. Because it’s all about… oh, man. This was my life growing up. My father was a higher class version of our friend here. Ponzi stuff. Horrible. People’s pensions, college funds, retirements. Yeesh, it’s 2:00 already. Damn. But that’s my cross to bear, and I hope I’m wrong about, uh… Dennis Klein, yeah. Anyway, it was a real pleasure. Good luck.” — Eric Neill

“Oh, hey. Oh, my rear end should not be this sore from four runs. How’s it going? You looked him up? And normally, you would have trusted that, but the part of you that wanted him so badly to be right… exactly. That’s what they do, man. They ride you through your own doubts and come out the other side like a surfer. Hey, what was the, uh, kid thing? No. Right? Like tick Lyme. Wait, what is that? I like that. Exactly! Pictures of the kid at Disneyland or meeting Lebron. A drink would be great. How about now? All right, I love ski culture. Nobody steals anything.” — Eric Neill

“It is. It was. It’s not, actually. It’s bad, what I do. I mean, it’s not illegal, but it’s– at the end of the day, basically I did four years of college and two years of business school to be a… glorified Grim Reaper. That’s what restructuring a company is. You decide who lives and who has to go home and break the news to the wife and kids. Well, that’s actually why I’m here. I’m trying to get away and do a little rebooting, which is why– I’m really sorry, but I gotta run. I’m meeting a headhunter in Salt Lake and I’m already… um, but this was… you know what? I’m too hungry to drive to Salt Lake. How about you?” — Eric Neill

“Well, no, you’re more like pieces of a mirror. ‘Who does the public see me as’ is one piece. ‘The socialite, life of the party’ is another piece. Artist piece. Confident, mature woman. Vulnerable little girl. The charity. But what’s behind it? That’s what I’m curious about. Me. And I don’t know for sure because I’m not an artist, but my sister is one. Well, she wants to be, but she wouldn’t tell you that. She’d tell you she has no interest. About my sister? Okay, since we’re baring all, I once, in middle school, did a one-man show. So lame, but I learned my lesson fast. And my mother was a decorator. And my dad, definitely not. Oh, my God. You’re right. He’s probably the best artist of all of us. Ugh. Where was I? That’s right. The biggest piece under the 85 million pieces of Olivia Lake– loneliness is what I see. That’s the thing everything else is covering up– the desire to connect and the inability to, for whatever reason. Am I close? Too close? Ah, I was too close. We’re changing the subject. “The Impersonator.’ It was me doing a bunch of lame impressions– famous people, other kids at school, some characters I made up, but essentially they all ended up sounding like vampires. Why do you ask? That’s probably true. Oh, my God. I think we’re keeping these people from going home. I’m so sorry. We’ll take the check.” — Eric Neill

“Why would they write that stuff? Uh… what? No, you were just trying to make something kind of permanent out of what always felt like a one-time, fleeting… miracle, really. I read somewhere the whole story came out of a dream. Is that…? So, it doesn’t feel like it came from you. ‘Cause if it did, why can’t you get there again? But, hey, look, it got you all this. Which is insane. And I’m guessing it must be a– a lot to maintain. Well, both. And the life? You know what I think? I appreciate that. I would like to call you, though, if that’s okay with you.” — Eric Neill

“That’s what I’m curious about. Well, maybe that’s why you do art. Like– I don’t know, I’m not an artist, but maybe deep down you’re lonely and your art is a way to connect, to bridge. I don’t know. Are you lonely? That’s the biggest take I get. I’m just kind of wondering if you’re… sort of all alone out here.” — Eric Neill

“Report back? Okay, here’s what you’re gonna report back. Olivia Lake is not a Nespresso machine. You don’t just punch in a cartridge, push a button, and expect… boom. And I’m working my ass off. Who is this client, anyway? She’s a fucking human being, okay? and I’m beginning to wonder if your precious client actually isn’t one. Look, just let me do my job or give me the high sign and she can have her money back minus what I’ve already spent. I’ll talk to you later. I’m working on it. Jesus Christ. Goodbye.” — Eric Neill

“Hey. I’m sorry I’ve been out of touch the last few days. I had some work stuff. May I? Since we met, I’ve been thinking about you, about some stuff you said. You said that the book happened once in 45 seconds, 26 years ago, so my question to you is what if the entire book was only the first chapter in what your actual legacy turned out to be? So, the story of the legacy of Olivia Lake– what is it? From a dream Olivia imagines a classic. On the strength of that classic she images a charity where thousands of kids have created things from their own dreams already. So, what’s next? I quit my job, and there’s no going back, it would appear, which ushers in chapter three. It’s not about me. So, chapter three. I went by the gallery on Monday and I see all these groups of kids come in and look at art and show their own art and make art, and I’m thinking, ‘why are they bussing them in from Salt Lake? Why don’t they just open one right in Salt Lake?’ And then I think, ‘Why just Salt Lake?’ So, my pitch to you is what if chapter three in the legacy of Olivia Lake is phase one: five cities– Salt Lake, Cheyenne, Denver, Albuquerque, Phoenix. Phase two: five-year plan. Phase three: 20-year plan. And just ’cause it was late and I was getting punchy… told you I’m not an artist. Thoughts? What do you think?” — Eric Neill